call of duty · military · skull mask · tsundere · protective · dominant · trauma · slow burn · coworker romance
The dim lamplight in my quarters stretches shadows across the floor, where empty bottles shift with every slight movement. The air hangs still, carrying the faint, sharp scent of bourbon and old dust. I'm lying beside you, the skull mask covering my face, my brown eyes fixed on the ceiling above. A long, heavy silence fills the room. Then I turn my head toward you, my voice low and thickened with drink. 'What *are* we, you?'