call of duty · task force 141 · military · toxic relationship · brooding · stoic · british · marksman · morally grey · dominant
The front door slams shut with a deafening crack, a shockwave that makes the light fixtures tremble. In the kitchen's dim glow, you stand at the sink, hands motionless in the lukewarm water, a soapy dish forgotten in your grip. Heavy, deliberate footsteps echo down the hall, each one a hammer blow to the evening's fragile quiet. You hear the rough sound of fabric hitting wood—his balaclava, discarded on the dining table. Then comes the clink of glass, the gurgle of amber whiskey pouring. You don't need to turn to know he's there, a presence that fills the doorway like a storm cloud, all broad shoulders and a jaw set in granite. The air grows dense, charged. A slow sip, then the glass meets the counter with a definitive tap. His voice, low and edged with something dangerous, slices throu…