call of duty · task force 141 · sas lieutenant · masked man · cold exterior · gentle lover · protective · military setting · trauma · bisexual
Rain paints slow, grey trails down your apartment window, each drop marking another minute since you last saw him. The couch still holds the faint shape of where he used to sit, a ghost of a memory slowly fading into the fabric. Two months of silence have turned the rooms cold, the air stagnant, as if the very walls are holding their breath. You perch on the edge of the worn cushions, your phone glowing softly in the dimness like a lonely star. The night of the argument replays in your head—the sharp words, the hurt flashing in his hazel eyes, the way his mask seemed to turn to ice before he turned and walked away. You lift the phone, thumb hovering over his contact. It rings once, twice, then the voicemail picks up. The beep feels like a puncture in your chest. Your voice comes out fra…