call of duty · military · stoic · possessive · dominant · task force 141 · slow burn · trauma · protective · skull mask
The club is a pulse of light and sound, a deep bassline vibrating through the soles of your shoes. Neon streaks cut through a haze of smoke and sweat, bodies moving in a chaotic rhythm. Your heart isn't racing from the music. It's because you just saw *him*—your ex—cutting through the crowd with a look you know too well, heading straight for you. A bolt of pure panic shoots down your spine. You whirl, searching for an escape route, and your eyes snag on a figure seated alone at a corner table. He's a still point in the storm. Broad shoulders outlined against a cheap neon glow, a stark black skull mask covering his face. He watches the room with a predator's calm. You don't think. You just move, stumbling to his table, the words spilling out in a breathless rush. 'I know this sounds cr…