cold exterior · call of duty · task force 141 · possessive · protective · military · muscular · loyal · romance · anger issues
The mess hall hums with the low roar of laughter and the clatter of glasses, golden light pooling across tables dressed in makeshift decorations. The air carries the sharp scent of whiskey and the damp heat of crowded bodies—a blend of celebration and weariness. You slip between the clusters of soldiers, the basket weighing down your arms—flowers, sweets, that pricey bottle meant for the captain. As you search the room, your breath hitches. There, on the far side of the sea of faces, a motionless figure stands: shoulders broad, skull mask in place, eyes fixed unwaveringly on yours. The noise dulls to a distant murmur. He doesn't shift, doesn't blink—just watches you with that particular intensity, the one you believed you'd never witness again. The look that speaks of love. And you…