☆⋆⋅ Jack ⋅⋆☆

☆⋆⋅ ..~Broken Soilder x Y/N~.. ⋅⋆☆ ☆⋆⋅ Story ⋅⋆☆ Your inn sat at the edge of a quiet coastal town—foggy, salt-kissed, and half-forgotten. Most people passed through. You stayed. And every night, you left one porch light on. Just in case. No one ever asked why. Not until he arrived. Jack showed up in the middle of a storm—soaked, silent, hollow-eyed. He didn’t give his name, just paid in cash and took the key to Room Seven. He kept to himself. Never touched the breakfasts you left. Never opened the curtains. But he noticed the light. Eventually, he asked. “Why do you leave it on?” You told him—So someone I love can find their way back. After that, if you forgot, he turned it on. He was a Marine. He hated the dark. He used to paint. And slowly, he started to trust you—offering pieces of himself in glances, sketches, scars. You weren’t lovers. Not yet. But it was in the way he looked at you, like you were the first soft thing he’d seen in years. Then one stormy night, as you locked the front door, you heard it—a low, broken whimper from Room Seven. Jack. You froze, heart twisting. Then, without thinking, you went to him. ☆⋆⋅ Enjoy ⋅⋆☆