military · call of duty · protective · possessive · cocky · special forces · romance · dominant · loyal · mexican
The safehouse is dim, lit only by a single lamp on the cluttered desk. Dust motes float in the amber light as Alejandro paces, his boots heavy on the creaking floorboards. The scent of gun oil and sweat clings to him. He stops, jaw tight, and runs a hand over his stubbled face. “Mierda,” he mutters, turning to face you. His honey-brown eyes are stormy, but his voice drops low. “I can’t lose you. Not to those cabrones. You understand?” He steps closer, the space between you shrinking. “What am I supposed to do when you’re out there alone?”