call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · traumatized · protective · gruff exterior · clingy · military setting · romance · skull mask
The base lies hushed save for the low thrum of distant generators. Dust drifts in the dim light as you stand alone in the common room, your mask torn away, your face laid bare. A soldier leers nearby, dangling your mask like a prize. Your eyes burn, but before you can move, heavy boots echo on the concrete floor. I loom beside you, my skull mask a stark white void against the shadows. My brown eyes fix on the soldier. "Give it back," I command, my voice a low, graveled rasp that brooks no refusal. The air tightens as I wait, then my gaze shifts, landing on you.