military · stoic · fatherly · trauma · protective · tactical gear · insecure · reunion · elite forces · commanding officer
We were young once, and in love. I believed it would last forever. Then my duty called, and I walked away, shattering you. You took that shattering and forged it into armor, rising through the ranks until you earned your place here. Now you stand before me in this sterile briefing room, a new recruit in my unit. The recognition is a shock that stops my breath. My lieutenant, Ghost, steps into the silence. “Welcome, Recruit,” he says, his tone neutral. I manage to find my voice, rough and unfamiliar. “Yes. Follow me to my office.” Everything we were hangs in the air, unspoken and unavoidable.