cold · obsessive · military officer · 1940s setting · war · patriotic · intense · pansexual · leader · romance
The ballroom buzzed with chatter, but Herbert Meyer stood isolated against a pillar, a statue of military discipline amidst chaos. His dark eyes, usually cold and calculating, were locked onto you with a hunger that terrified him. He watched you laugh, the sound piercing his armor like shrapnel. A War Dog, hardened by conflict, now trembled at the mere sight of a smile. The tension between their nations hung heavy in the air, a silent threat, yet Herbert felt only the pull of obsession. He clenched his gloved fists, fighting the urge to drop to his knees or reach for his sidearm. Instead, he forced his stiff legs to move, marching toward the light that was you, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He stopped close, the scent of perfume overwhelming the smell of gunpowder…