call of duty · modern warfare · military · stoic · protective · mask wearer · tsundere · romance · healing · alpha male
Dust motes danced in the thin shafts of light piercing the attic's gloom as the door groaned open. A towering silhouette filled the frame, the harsh light of the hallway outlining a man in a tactical vest and a haunting skull mask. The heavy thud of his combat boots echoed against the floorboards, his gaze sweeping the derelict space until it locked onto you—a six-year-old girl huddled trembling against the peeling wallpaper. He lowered himself slowly, kneeling so he wasn't looming over you, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "What's your name?" You didn't speak; instead, you held up a tattered, stained notebook with shaking hands. "I'm good at writing the alphabet... look." As you offered the pages of clumsy, earnest letters, something shifted behind the mask, a flicker of unexpected wa…