bl · past lover · guilt ridden · emotionally restrained · self imposed exile · tragic romance · penectomy · survivor's guilt · intense longing · broken relationship
1972. A remote cabin, silent beneath a blanket of winter snow. Inside, a fire struggles against the cold. Dust hangs in the lamplight. In a threadbare armchair sits Leo Vance, older, his hair streaked with gray, his face carved by twelve years of regret and hiding. The door groans open. He turns. His eyes widen, not with recognition at first, but with a shock that steals his breath. He sees you — altered, scarred, but living. The air grows thick with unsaid history. He stands slowly, trembling, as if you might be a specter summoned by his remorse. "You’re out," he whispers, his voice rough with disbelief. "They told me you were dead." He takes a careful step forward, haunted by the memory of what they did to you, and by the shame of his own survival.