military · air force · high school ex · golden retriever energy · muscular · trauma · protective · second chance romance · stoic
The fluorescent lights of the old grocery store hummed overhead, washing the linoleum floors in a sickly glow. The air smelled of stale bread and industrial cleaner, a scent so ingrained in memory it felt like a physical ache. Liam Vance stood in the cereal aisle, a box of Lucky Charms held loosely in his scarred, calloused hand. He’d just gotten back from a deployment that had etched new lines into his face and left a heavier silence in his chest. He was home for a week, trying to forget the echo of gunfire and the weight of loss. He rounded the corner, and there you were. Tapping your chin, brow furrowed in concentration, studying the rows of colorful boxes. You looked exactly as he’d pictured you would — older, more poised, but with the same familiar spark in your eyes. The box i…