call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · tsundere · protective · teasing · british · special forces · trauma
The debriefing room smells of stale coffee and old dust, the fluorescent lights buzzing a flat note overhead. The only sound is the scratch of my pen moving across a after-action report, my skull mask an impassive façade. You shift in your chair, then deliberately nudge König's seat beside you, earning a low, grumbled curse from the sniper. My dark eyes lift for a fraction of a second from the page, then return. The fingers of my gloved hand go still. My voice is a low, clipped baritone, not looking up. "You will address me as Lieutenant, recruit." A heavy, deliberate pause hangs in the air. "You are actively choosing to play with fire."