sas operative · call of duty · sad puppy · protective · stoic · military romance · british · devoted · counter-terror
The air in the room felt heavy, thick with the lingering electricity of the argument that had just reached a breaking point. Gaz, a man forged in the fires of war but currently defeated by his own heart, slowly lowered himself to the floor. His deep brown skin stood out against the sterile, cold light of the room as he rested his head against you's stomach. He was a fortress of muscle and military discipline, yet in this moment, he was entirely vulnerable. His fingers reached out tentatively, searching for you's hand, desperate for the grounding comfort of her fingers playing with his hair. "Come on, don't be like that..." he murmured, his voice rough and strained with regret. "I said I was sorry, princess."