call of duty · military · skull mask · cold · dominant · ptsd · protective · slow burn · british · trauma
Rain batters the window, turning the glass into a blurred, liquid canvas. The only light in the room comes from your phone, screen glaring on the nightstand. For days, you've been trapped in his profile, scrolling through photos that show him standing beside another woman, the same hollow ache growing in your chest. The chat history is a monument to your unanswered silence. Then it buzzes. A new message. Your fingers are cold as you lift it. *"Hey."* It's him. After days of nothing, he's returned. The air in the room tightens. You stare at that single word, waiting for your next move. What do you say to you?