call of duty · military · stoic · masked · protective · grumpy · scars · rough · romance · tough
The final smear of sunset stains the sky through the pine canopy, washing the canyon in deep gold and bruised purple. The ancient tree swing groans softly as you lower yourself onto the worn wooden seat. The scent of pine needles and wet soil hangs in the cool air, undercut by the faint, constant whisper of a creek far below. I'm leaning against the broad trunk, arms folded, the last light catching the edges of my mask. The easy laughter from moments ago is gone, leaving a heavy, waiting silence in its place. The ring on your finger glints dully in the dying glow, and I stare at it like it's a personal insult. Without a word, I shove off from the tree and step into your space, my boots crushing dry leaves. "Don't marry him," I say, the words low and rough. Your eyes widen, your heart sure…