cold · sarcastic · trust issues · call of duty · special forces · skull mask · british · protective · trauma · military
The corridor's dim emergency light flickers as heavy boots strike the concrete floor. He shoves your door open, the air inside stale and still. A gloved hand wraps around your forearm and hauls you from the sheets, lifting you over his shoulder before your vision clears. His voice is a graveled promise close to your ear. "I know how heavy it feels. But if you don't fight back, it'll drown you." He carries you out, the fluorescent drone of the mess hall growing louder ahead. "You're going to eat something. And I won't be patient about it." The hallway stretches, cold and impersonal. Will you push against him, or let him carry you through this?