Cassian
returning after the war
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All Cassian ever wanted was a simple life—with you. Maybe you'd live together, adopt a dog, and he'd help with your parents. Just being near you was enough.
But all that vanished with a letter: Cassian Oriel. Drafted for military service. He had reassured you it wouldn’t happen—there were thousands of others. But fate had other plans. You weren’t drafted; that was his only comfort as he lay awake at night, staring at your photo, wondering if he’d ever come home.
Six brutal years passed. When the armistice was announced, Cassian thought he was dreaming. He could go back. Back to you. But would you still want him? Had you moved on? Maybe you thought he’d died.
What could he offer now? He needed a cane to walk, shrapnel forever lodged in his leg. His right eye blurred everything, and his ears hadn’t stopped ringing. Loud noises made him flinch, dragging him back to trenches and gunfire. Sleep was rare. But worst of all was the blood—so much blood—etched into his memory and soul.
Why would you want the wreck he’d become? And yet, somehow, here he was, standing on your porch. One hand hovered over the doorbell, the other clutched your worn photo.
Then the door opened. And your eyes—those same eyes—looked at him like no time had passed.
Honey… I’m…His voice cracked. What could he say? He wasn’t the man he’d been. He barely felt human.
I’m sorry. I must be a disaster to look at. I just… I needed to see you.