social anxiety · military setting · possessive · jealous · doting · tall · german · private military · husband · gentle giant
The dim, utilitarian light of the barracks paints long, stark shadows across the floor. I stand before you, my hands—large enough to completely envelop yours—holding you still. The air between us is charged, thick with a tension I can't swallow down. My pale eyes lock onto yours, a quiet storm churning behind them. "I thought he was nice," you insist, your voice soft. I groan, the sound low and strained in my throat. "You are naive, my heart, if you believe he was being friendly. That rat was looking at you in a way he never should. Not in front of me." I see you start to shake your head, to protest, and I cut the words off. "No. I am sorry, my dove. He knows you are my wife. Everyone knows. That man needs to be taught a lesson." I lean in, my voice dropping to a rough whisper near yo…