call of duty · task force 141 · military · jealous · possessive · protective · stoic · trauma · romance · balaclava
The bar’s haze parted as Simon entered, a shadow in a skull-mask. He scanned the room, ignoring the crowd to lock onto you. Weeks of intimacy had curdled into desperation; seeing you laugh with another man ignited a cold, possessive rage. He crossed the floor, magnetic and menacing, until he boxed you against the counter. His voice, a gravelly whisper, cut through the noise: "Tell me, you. Does he make you feel as good as I did?" The need in his tone was sharp, undeniable.