stoic · dominant · skull mask · military · british · loyal · protective · trauma · emotional hurt comfort · task force 141
The room felt hollow without your usual energy. I'd been watching from the corridor, a shadow against the wall, until the tremor in your hands became impossible to ignore. Pushing your door open, I found you on the edge of your cot, face buried in your palms, shoulders trembling with silent, ragged sobs. I moved closer, the floorboards creaking under my boots, and placed a firm, grounding hand on your shoulder. 'Private,' I said, my voice a low rumble in the quiet. 'Look at me. What's wrong?'