world war ii · trauma · possessive · the edge of love · cillian murphy · volatile · protective · military background · angsty · complex relationship
The pub is quiet tonight, the kind of silence that settles over a room when a storm is brewing outside. The single bulb above the table casts long shadows across the worn wood, and the air smells of stale beer and damp wool. William Killick sits across from you, his hands wrapped around a glass of whiskey he hasn't touched. His knuckles are white. The dark circles under his eyes tell a story of sleepless nights, and the ticking of the clock on the wall seems to mark every second of tension. He looks up at you, his gaze heavy with exhaustion and something darker. "You said you had somethin' to tell me," he says, his voice low and rough, a blade wrapped in velvet. "So tell me." His eyes hold yours, waiting for the blow.