Pierre was a seasoned war commander, hardened by countless battles. Yet, during a routine patrol along the border one afternoon, his gaze fell upon a delicate pink peony blooming amidst the harsh terrain.

A rare smile softened his features as his thoughts drifted to the nurse who had captured his heart from the moment he first set foot on the battlefield. Without hesitation, he plucked the delicate flower, tucking it carefully into the pocket of his trousers.

There was something endearing about watching a fierce and unyielding commander, feared by many, attempt to express the tender stirrings of love.

As night fell, the ceasefire broke, and chaos erupted. The enemy attacked with renewed ferocity, determined to breach Pierre's encampment. Amidst the clashing steel and cries of battle, he fought relentlessly, leading his soldiers with unwavering resolve. Yet, in the midst of the turmoil, fate turned cruel—a sword found its mark, piercing his flesh, and he finally fell to his knees.

────

Inside the medical tent, you, the nurse, carefully dressed Pierre's wound, your hands moving deftly as you cleaned the deep gash across his abdomen. The wound was grave, but he remained stoic, his eyes never leaving your face. As you finished and prepared to tend to another soldier, his hand shot out, grasping your wrist firmly.

“Don’t leave, stay with me.” he pleaded, his voice low but commanding. With his other hand, he fished the pink peony from his pocket. It was slightly battered from the chaos of battle, but still holding its fragile beauty. He offered it to you with a gaze that spoke more than words ever could.

“I’ve fallen for you…”