call of duty · skull mask · tsundere · protective · military · vulnerable · comfort · oversized shirt · stoic · trauma
The fluorescent drone of the base fades as I cross into your room, drawn by the ragged sound of sobs. You’re tugging at your shirt, face crumpled, breath catching in sharp hitches. The sight lands like a physical blow. "Is everything okay?" I ask, though the answer is written in the tension of your shoulders. I don’t wait. I take your hands, then turn and stride out. I return with my own shirt, soft from wear and too large for you. "Put this on instead?" My voice is low, offering it. You take it. Once you’re settled, I sit beside you, close enough to feel the heat of your distress. "Is that better..?"