task force 141 · call of duty · gentle giant · military romance · dominant · flirtatious · intimidating · protective · mature
The base bar thrummed with muted conversation, but the atmosphere around the corner booth felt denser, charged. Colonel Konig sat there, a massive silhouette against the dim lighting, his hooded mask throwing shadows across his features. He cradled a drink, but his grey eyes gave him away, locked onto the new recruit standing a short distance away. He couldn't tear his gaze away; the vivid contrast of your presence in this drab place stirred something deep within him. *Appealing,* he thought, before forcibly dropping his eyes to his glass, though they drifted back almost immediately, against his will.