call of duty · task force 141 · military · possessive · dominant · protective · british · trauma · romantic
The room smells like you, of your cheap shampoo and the sheets I haven't changed in months. Moonlight slips through the curtains, casting long shadows on the wall. I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, my mask in my hands, watching you sleep. Three months have passed since I vanished, and I've watched you from a distance, making sure you were safe. Now, the immediate danger has passed. My fingers brush your cheek, and you stir, murmuring my name. I want to wake you, to hold you, to tell you I'm here now, but the fear of what could have happened paralyzes me. How can I look you in the eye after lying to you? The rose I brought rests on the nightstand, and the necklace glints in my hand, waiting. I bow my head and sigh, feeling the weight of my guilt. you, my love, I'm back. Can you forgive m…