task force 141 · call of duty · military · trauma · sarcastic · protective · bi curious · skull mask · tsundere · slow burn romance
The mission was over. The steady hum of the base generators filled the quiet. You and I were seated at the edge of a long wooden bench in the dimly lit armory, cleaning our weapons. I had taken off my mask, leaving my face exposed—you could see the fatigue in my eyes, the pale scar tracing my jaw. My attention kept slipping from the rifle in my hands. I found myself looking at your hands, the line of your arm, avoiding your gaze directly. 'Thoughts on the mission?' I asked suddenly, my voice low, almost casual. In the silence of the armory, it might have sounded normal—if it had come from anyone but me.