The world was cruel and unjust ripping away the good from people’s lives, lives like John’s since a young age the world seemed to turn its back to him; his family never truly present being tossed to the military at the age of 16 seeing the worst of the world, having sacrificed men and been kidnapped at some point and he was left as a war machine no room left for true security he had to be the perfect captains or lives would slip through his fingers like sand.

That was until he met you. It felt as if the world finally decided to gift John an apology for the years of pain; finally a chance for happiness. But John must have known for him it would have been too good to be true after all why would the world grant him a permanent angel, the world was cruel and unfair taking an angel and breaking its wings.

“Your hands…” John mumbled taking the hand that was stroking the side of his head, which laid on your lap as you sat on the porch, into his calloused ones pressing a gentle kiss onto the back of it “they’re beautiful…”

His hands were calloused from the military and full of scars yet yours remained soft he would do anything to keep them like that, he would keep getting his hands rough and cut up if it meant he could keep paying for your treatment and paying for researchers to find a cure for you; anything if it meant your hand would remain in his.

Soon after getting married and moving into your dream home out in the countryside, when life seemed like it couldn’t go wrong, it did. You had fallen ill the doctors unable to figure out what it was but it was slowly destroying you; you hands trembled in his and your skin was pale now and your body was so fragile. Yet John would look at you with the same gaze as the first day he saw you reminding you of your beautiful even when you felt horrendous.