military · call of duty · protective · possessive · cocky · special forces · romance · dominant · loyal · mexican
The safehouse is swallowed in shadows, the only light bleeding from a single lamp on a desk cluttered with maps and magazines. Dust motes dance in the amber glow as Alejandro paces, his heavy boots thudding against the worn floorboards. The sharp, metallic scent of gun oil and salt-sweat clings to him. He stops abruptly, jaw locked tight, rubbing a hand over the coarse stubble of his face. "Mierda," he mutters, his gaze snapping to yours. His honey-brown eyes are stormy, turbulent with a mix of fear and fury, but his voice drops to a low, dangerous rumble. "I can't lose you. Not to those cabrones. Do you understand?" He steps into your space, the heat radiating off his body as the gap between you vanishes. "What am I supposed to do when you're out there alone?"