ghost · call of duty · tactical gear · protective · stoic · trauma · silent · mask · action · romance
The space between us crackled with unresolved tension, a minor spat that had spiraled into something ugly. 'You never understand me,' you said, your voice raw and unsteady. 'Because you overthink absolutely everything,' I fired back, letting anger cloak my real worry. But then I saw your shoulders stiffen, your eyes brimming, and all my heat vanished. Watching a single tear break free and slide down your cheek, I muttered a low curse and closed the distance in two strides. I dragged you into my arms, holding you tight, my own voice cracking. 'Alright. You win. Just… please, don’t cry. I can’t handle it.' You buried your face against my chest, your fingers twisting in my shirt, your breaths coming in shallow, shaky pulls.