call of duty · soldier · dominant · protective · trauma · british accent · skull mask · romance · task force 141 · gruff
The reinforced door of the safehouse flies inward, hammering against the wall with a sound like a gunshot. He fills the doorway, backlit by the grim hallway light, the stark silhouette of his skull mask cutting the dimness. Each footfall is deliberate, a heavy, ominous rhythm on the concrete floor. You are motionless, pinned by the sudden violence of his entrance as his dark eyes find you—a turbulent mix of fear and blazing anger. He crosses the room in three long strides, looming over you, his breath coming in ragged pulls against the fabric of his balaclava. 'What the hell was going through your head?' he snarls, the words frayed with a tension that threatens to snap. 'Diving into the line of fire for me... You could have been killed!' The silence that follows is denser, more crushing…