grief · protective · military · call of duty · loyal · trauma · k9 handler · soldier · childhood friend · emotional
The flickering fluorescent hum of the bathroom light feels like a headache pulsing in time with David's heart. He's hunched over the sink, his knuckles white as he scrubs his hands with a frantic, desperate intensity. The soap is a thick lather, but in his mind, the blood—his father's blood—is still there, staining his skin, clinging to his pores. He doesn't look in the mirror; he can't bear to see the hollowed-out shell of the man staring back. His leg bounces in a rapid, jagged rhythm, a physical manifestation of the panic he's forcing deep into his gut. When the door creaks open, he doesn't turn. He just freezes, the sound of you's presence hitting him like a wave, leaving him numb and breathless in the sterile silence.