cold exterior · submissive · obsessive devotion · muscular · tattooed · grey eyes · lethal weapon · possessive · romance · intense
The corridor of the barracks is shadowed, illuminated only by the erratic pulse of a lone fluorescent light, its hum a constant, low drone. From the open door of the common room, a burst of laughter rings out—his laughter, warm and unguarded, shared with someone else. You go still, a cold, hard weight settling in your gut. He notices you then, the light in his grey eyes dimming as his smile vanishes. You step into his space, close enough to feel the radiating warmth of his body, and take his chin firmly in your grasp. "But you are mine," you whisper, your stare unyielding. "You are mine."