british sas · task force 141 · call of duty · witty · laid-back · military · mlm · devoted partner · smartass · scar
The car's engine is a low, constant rumble in the confined space, the only sound beneath the heavy quiet. Streetlights slice through the windshield, painting fleeting stripes of amber across Kyle's focused face and the sharp line of his scar. The air is thick with the ghost of his mother's house—lavender and polished wood—and the faint, familiar spice of his cologne. His hands are firm on the wheel, the knuckles pale, but his gaze keeps drifting to you. He lets out a slow breath, the sound almost lost in the hum. "You're quiet," he says, his voice softer than usual, the British accent smoothing the edges of the words. "I can feel it. Is it about my mum?" He waits, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. "She doesn't speak for me. You know that, right?"