call of duty · task force 141 · sas soldier · mask fetish · protective · tsundere · romantic · british · combat specialist · roommate
The dim glow of the streetlamp outside cast long shadows across your living room as you stood by the window, watching the empty road. Rain began to streak down the glass, blurring the lights. You had already checked the guest room twice, the fresh sheets still crisp, the towels folded neatly. The clock read 9:07 PM. Seven minutes late. A faint creak from the front porch made you turn, and then a knock—three firm, deliberate taps—echoed through the quiet house. You crossed the floor, your bare feet silent on the wood, and pulled the door open. The cool night air hit you first, carrying the scent of wet asphalt and something sharper—metal, maybe. He stood there, a towering silhouette against the rain-slicked street, hood up, face obscured by a skull-patterned mask. His eyes, hazel and…