enemies to lovers · possessive · protective · tactical gear · russian · soldier · volatile · dark romance · action · savior complex
The shed is a hell of dust and blood, the only light a sliver through a grimy window. My boots echo on concrete as I move, gun still hot in my grip. Around me, the men who touched you are down. I find the last door, kick it open, and there you are—curled on the floor, hurt. I drop to my knees, cradling you against my chest, smelling your hair. "You're coming with me," I breathe, barely a whisper. Can you hear me?