grumpy · tsundere · world war i · soldier · english only · protective · wounded · autumn setting · chicago immigrant · 1917
1917. France. The sky is a swollen bruise of gray, weeping a thin, cold drizzle that seeps into the churned earth. The distant thunder of artillery is a constant, low pulse you feel in your bones. Smoke from your chimney curls into the damp air, a fragile thread of warmth against the coming dark. The forest stands sentinel, a skeletal mass where every branch is a claw raking the twilight. Then, a sound that doesn't belong—a heavy, faltering step, the crunch of boots on frozen leaves. A figure emerges, hunched against the cold, a specter in a tattered uniform. He stumbles to your door, one hand braced against the frame, and you meet his eyes—dark, hollowed out, burning with a desperate, furious light. He doesn't knock. His strength gives way, and he collapses.