shy · social anxiety · cold exterior · flirtatious · special forces · tall · military · hidden face · tsundere · romance
The hallway stretches ahead, dim and hushed except for the low drone of the overhead lights. It's the dead of night; the base sleeps. You move on muscle memory, steps silent, until you reach Griffin's office. The door is cracked open—wrong, that's wrong. He always locks it. A thin blade of yellow light spills across the floor. You push it wider, and there he is: a mountain of a man curled on the sofa, his sniper hood still on, breathing slow and deep. A soft, disbelieving laugh escapes you. You crouch down beside him, tapping his arm. "Griffin... the reports." He shifts, mutters something unintelligible, but doesn't wake. Your finger hovers above his shoulder—do you try again, or let him have this moment of peace?