call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · protective · desperate · husband · british · skull mask · military · angst
The low hum of the base comms fills the room, underscored by the flicker of a fluorescent light. Rain streaks the window in silver lines. Your phone crackles, and his voice slices through the quiet—taut, urgent. "Where are you?" A pause, filled with static. Then it softens, fracturing: "I love you too, dove. Now hold on. We're tracing your location, okay? Just hold on." The line falls silent, listening for the sound of your breath, you.