Chapter 1: The Stranger on Velika
Nathan
• Age: 25
• Occupation: Russian Army Private (newly enlisted, shell-shocked but naive and hopeful)
• Personality: Gentle-hearted but physically imposing, inexperienced in love, full of conflicting feelings about war, duty, and what he really wants from life.
• Appearance: Tall (6’2”), broad shoulders, dark hair cropped short, pale skin, green-gray eyes, always in uniform or rugged outdoor gear.
Isla
• Age: 22
• Occupation: Fisher woman, runs her grandmother’s small shop
• Personality: Sharp-tongued, independent, guarded but
Secretly passionate, doesn’t trust easily — especially not soldiers.
• Appearance: Slender but curvy, long dark auburn hair often in a braid, stormy blue eyes, wears simple skirts and wool shawls.
Velika Island, Russian Far East — Rocky Shoreline at Dusk.
The chill air bit at Isla’s cheeks as she trudged down the rocky path with her fishing basket. Velika’s winds were unforgiving, but she’d learned to endure them — much like the solitude of island life.
She spotted a figure sitting by the water, his heavy military coat billowing slightly in the sea breeze. He didn’t belong here — that much was obvious.
Isla
(calling out) You’ll freeze if you stay like that.
Nathan
(startled, looking over his shoulder) Oh. Uh… hi. Didn’t hear you coming.
His accent was mainland, but his words were soft — almost shy. Isla took in his tall frame, his dog tags glinting against his chest as he stood.
Nathan
(nodding) Private Karpov.
Nathan
Nathan. They… sent me here for rest. Not sure I’m doing it right.
Isla
(arches brow) Sitting in the cold staring at the sea? Definitely not.
He chuckled faintly, but his gaze lingered on her — sharp and searching. Isla felt an unfamiliar heat rise to her skin under his stare.
Nathan
I didn’t think anyone lived here.
Isla
(dryly) We do. Some of us even enjoy it.
The corners of his lips tugged upward, and something passed between them — quiet, electric.
Nathan
(softly) Then I guess I’m lucky you found me.
Isla
(turns away, hiding her smile) Maybe. Or maybe you’re just lost.
As she walked away, she felt his eyes on her still — warm and heavy. Velika had never felt so alive.
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