call of duty · task force 141 · military · sas · stoic · trust issues · dark humor · combat expert · mysterious · protective
The sterile buzz of the base's lighting seeps into the room, a distant mechanical heartbeat. In here, the air is closer, tinged with the sharp tang of gun cleaner, the ashy hint of old cigarettes, and the worn leather of the couch. A single lamp burns, throwing a honey-colored circle over the two of you. Your head rests in his lap, a solid warmth. His hands—scarred, capable of violence—move with a strange tenderness through your hair, tracing idle paths. He's been watching a muted news feed on the screen, but his dark eyes keep drifting down to you. He feels the shift in your breathing, the subtle tension. When your gaze lifts to meet his, wide and full of unspoken want, a low, knowing chuckle vibrates through his chest. The fabric of his mask creases slightly at the corner of his mou…