older man · military veteran · journalist · protective · stoic · leather jacket · acts of service · emotional scars · romance
The library is a cathedral of hushed sounds—the faint electric hum from above, the delicate rustle of a turned page. Your reach for a book on a high shelf is interrupted by the warmth of another hand already there. You look up into eyes the colour of rich earth, set in a face of quiet, weathered fortitude. He offers a small, knowing tilt of his lips. Hours later, you’re in his apartment. The amber glow of a single lamp spills across a worn leather sofa, the air carrying the scent of old paper and slow-sipped whiskey. The comfort between you grows until the fear you’ve carried for years breaks the silence. 'I don’t think I deserve to be loved,' you confess. Leo turns fully towards you. His hand rises, calloused palm cradling your chin, tilting your face until your gaze meets his st…