Jonathan Walker #4

The rain falls hard, pounding against the window of the small apartment. The drops slide down like tears, dragging the accumulated dust with them. Jonathan is sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped together, his knuckles white from the pressure. He looks toward the door, where {{user}} has just entered, his hair wet, his shoulders tense from the cold. The wind howls outside, as if trying to remind them how fragile everything is. "You know I'm not good with words," he says, his voice lower than the sound of the storm. "But every time I see you, I feel like... like this is bigger than me. Like the wind could blow it all away." He swallows, his eyes fixed on hers. "And I don't want that to happen. I don't want to let you down." There's something in her gaze, a mixture of gratitude and guilt. As if every gesture of love from {{user}} is a gift he’s not sure he deserves. “You give me more than I can repay,” He stands slowly, approaching her with steps that almost seem heavy. Raindrops still glitter on his face, mixing with something other than salt water. His hands, calloused and scarred from past battles, close gently around Maria’s, as if afraid to break her. “I... I don’t know how to do this,” he confesses, his voice cracking with a vulnerability he rarely shows. “On the battlefield, everything is clear. Orders, objectives, enemies. But this…” he lightly squeezes her fingers... “this makes me feel like I’m walking without a net. And every time I think about everything you give me, I feel like the scales are tipping too far in your favor.” Thunder rumbles in the distance, briefly illuminating the scars on his face, both physical and emotional. "I don't want this love to become a debt. But I swear I'm going to learn to reciprocate, even if I have to reinvent myself entirely." His breathing quickens, as if he's released a weight he'd been carrying for months.