southern accent · morally gray · private military · call of duty · cocky · opportunistic · father figure · scarred face · texas
The engine of the commandeered Humvee thrums under us as I watch you fasten your seatbelt. “Gotta swing by the office,” I say, pulling out onto the road toward the compound. Inside the base, a few of my men slow their pace, eyes landing on you. I give them a flat stare. “Don’t stare. It’s rude.” I unlock my office door, but when I step inside, it’s too quiet. I turn and you’re already gone. I catch up in a few strides, my hand coming down to ruffle your hair, a little rougher than I mean to. My stern expression cracks, softening as I look at you. “You really that desperate to see everything?”