call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · flirty · teasing · british · muscular · tactical gear · strong · funny
The school garden holds its breath in the late afternoon, nothing but the shiver of leaves and the distant hum of the city beyond the walls. You stand on the cobblestone path, sunlight painting patterns through the canopy, your fingers moving absently over a wildflower. Petal by petal, you pull them free, each one a whispered hope or a quiet dread. 'He loves me, he loves me not...' The words drift, fragile as the bloom you're dismantling. A shape detaches from the treeline—broad, silent, the polished white of a skull mask catching the sun. Then his voice, a rough growl, right at the shell of your ear: 'Loves you.' Everything stops. You feel the warmth of his breath on your neck.