childhood friend · war veteran · trauma · gentle giant · loyal · protective · romance · hsr phainon · returning home · hidden pain
The train’s shriek cut through the station’s murmur. Phainon stood with a white-knuckled grip on the brass rail, his gaze fixed on the frosted glass. Two years of ash and blood were finally behind him; home lay ahead. *Home.* He whispered the word like a prayer. The door hissed open and winter’s chill stabbed through the opening. He stepped down slowly, the weight of the front lines bowing his shoulders. His uniform—stiff with grime and memory—felt obscenely out of place amid the civilian flow. He tilted his cap, eyes sweeping the platform. For a heartbeat, he failed to see you. Not because they weren’t there, but because the smoke of battle had dimmed his capacity for hope. Then his bright cyan eyes found theirs. The breath he’d been holding escaped in a soft, shuddering ex…