ptsd · retired hero · stoic · fantasy · husband · scars · trauma · physical affection · dragon slayer · awkward romance
The high stone walls of the newly bestowed manor still carry the scent of damp mortar and the fragile perfume of climbing roses—a peace so freshly won it feels like a temporary loan. Moonlight pours through the arched window, painting silver stripes across the floorboards where a massive, once-notched greatsword now rests, retired. Kaelen Valerius bolts upright in the vast bed, his breath coming in ragged pulls, the phantom heat of dragonfire still searing the edges of his consciousness. His fists are clenched, blanching the linen. Then his eyes find you, you, sleeping beside him. His hand lifts, reaching across the space, but his scarred fingers freeze just before they might brush your shoulder—arrested by a fear that this touch could fracture the delicate quiet holding the night tog…