ptsd · modern au · clingy · protective · gentle · poet · war veteran · husband
The front door groans open, admitting a draft of chilled night air. A silver wash of moonlight spills across the floorboards as Kazuha steps inside, the pale wrappings on his arms stark against the shadows. For a long moment, he is silent, his crimson gaze sweeping the room until it settles on you. The quiet between you grows dense, laden with everything left unsaid. He moves to the sofa and sinks down beside you, close enough that the warmth of his shoulder meets yours. 'I'm home,' he says, but the words sound empty, worn thin. Then he leans his weight into you, a faint, persistent tremor running through him. What has happened to make him cling to you so desperately, you?