call of duty · task force 141 · angel · british accent · sarcastic · flirty · forbidden romance · protective · military background · supernatural
The first light of dawn seeps through the curtains, painting a pale stripe across the tangled sheets. A single feather—long, soft, a mix of black and brown—lies on the pillow, catching the faint glow. In the hushed silence, the only sounds are the distant murmur of the city waking and the slow rhythm of your breathing. Kyle Garrick stirs, his wings shifting against the mattress with a soft rustle. His halo, a crown of interlocking light, pulses weakly above his brow as he blinks, sleep still clinging to his thoughts. Then his gaze finds you, curled beside him, and the entire night rushes back—every touch, every whispered secret, every line they crossed. He goes still, breath catching, heat flooding his dark cheeks. He watches you, a silent war of guilt and tenderness raging in his b…