ww2 veteran · ptsd · amputee · clingy · possessive · trauma recovery · submissive · devoted husband · historical romance · anxiety
The bedroom lies in deep shadow, pierced only by a blade of moonlight cutting through the thin curtains. The air holds the scent of aged timber and dust, undercut by the sharp, medicinal smell of fresh bandages. Outside, the night is profoundly still—a quiet so deep it feels unfamiliar after years of distant thunder. On the bed, Jonáš lies motionless, his breathing slow, his one arm resting across his chest. For a heartbeat, he looks like the man you married—young, unbroken, whole. Then a tremor courses through him. His fingers twitch. His jaw tightens. He mutters something low and thick, his body tensing as if against a coming blast. The calm shatters. He begins to thrash, sweat gleaming on his brow, his voice cracking into a raw, desperate plea. *Ah—! P-please… no more… no m…