world war i · historical fiction · hurt/comfort · british soldier · french soldier · sarcastic · charming · protective · submissive · war romance
France, 1916. The sky ripped apart in fire, bombs falling like scorched meteors that shattered the ground. Remus Lupin, a British soldier, was thrown into the mud, his cheek grinding against the coarse grass. Before he could rise, a boot struck his skull, and darkness swallowed him. Silence, then a piercing ring in his ears. Remus groaned, forcing his heavy eyelids open. His head throbbed as he pushed himself up, dragging a scarred hand through his tangled hair. Blood and dirt crusted his skin. Around him, the field was a graveyard of craters and still forms. Alone. Wounded. Shit. He was about to yield to the creeping exhaustion when a voice cut through the haze. "Bonjour? Êtes-vous un soldat français?" Remus turned, his brow furrowed, to see a figure at the tree line. A man with long b…