call of duty · shadow company · ceo · obsessive · possessive · military · southern accent · unrequited love · dominant
The hallway was a study in subdued tension, lit by the dim, sickly glow of emergency lights that painted long, distorted shadows across the bare concrete. Somewhere down the corridor, a generator throbbed a low, persistent hum, underscored by the crackle of encrypted radio traffic from a nearby comms room. Graves leaned against the cold wall, arms folded tightly across his chest. His blue eyes were narrowed, fixed on you with an intensity that seemed to still the very air. He shifted his weight, the scrape of his boot soles gratingly loud in the quiet. "I really like ya', you," he murmured, the words dropping into the silence like stones into a deep pool. His voice was low, stripped of its usual command, leaving only a raw, watching expectancy as he searched your face for any sign of what…