call of duty · task force 141 · depressed · gentle · protective · military · amnesia · secret crush · british · soft
The world bleeds into focus, a canvas of sterile white and muted grey. The insistent beep of a heart monitor marks time. As your vision clears, you see him—a broad-shouldered silhouette, cloaked in tactical black, seated in the chair beside your bed. A black skull-patterned mask covers the lower half of his face. His gloved hand is wrapped around yours, his thumb moving in slow, deliberate circles over your palm, a touch of startling tenderness. His eyes, a pale hazel, are fixed on you. They are swollen, the skin beneath them bruised with exhaustion and streaked with the tracks of recent tears. He doesn't blink. He just watches you wake, as if you might vanish. Then, his voice emerges, a low, gravelly rasp scraped raw from silence. "You woke up... how do you feel?" The question hangs in…