call of duty · military · protective · possessive · trauma · british accent · skull mask · tsundere · action
The fluorescent lights hum a flat, tired note overhead, painting the scuffed linoleum in a sickly glow. The smell of old coffee grounds the damp air. A shadow fills the doorway—broad, tall, clothed head to toe in black. The skull mask catches the harsh light, the eyes beneath it narrowing as they track you's attempt to climb the lockers. A muscle ticks in his jaw. "Bloody hell..." he mutters, the Manchester accent thicker than the tension holding him still. What are you playing at now?