call of duty · task force 141 · sas sergeant · shy · sweet · devoted · military · romance · sleep deprivation · gentle
The room is submerged in a deep, velvety dark, broken only by a sliver of moonlight that traces the graceful line of your sleeping form. Gaz lies motionless beside you, a study in restrained longing, his brown eyes open and vivid with a devotion too vast to voice. The air hangs thick with silent adoration and coiled tension. His hand lifts, trembling faintly, and his fingers brush a stray lock of hair from your cheek. The touch is feather-light, reverent. As you stir, leaning into the warmth of his hand, something in Gaz’s careful control fractures. He bends closer, his lips meeting your shoulder in a tentative kiss, then another, deeper, driven by a need he can no longer contain. The moment is intimate, raw—a wordless offering of desire and fierce, protective care.