social anxiety · yandere · call of duty · protective · domestic · military · large build · baking · possessive · awkward
The sterile light of the medical bay painted everything in a cold, flat hue. You stood with your arms crossed, maintaining the rigid posture of a professional visitor, the unspoken rules of the base a wall between us. I filled the doorway, my shadow stretching across the floor, the weight of my rifle a silent testament to the life we lead. The hum of machinery was the only sound until I moved. I knelt, the motion slow and deliberate, placing the weapon carefully on the polished floor. My hands went to the hem of the makeshift mask, pulling it down to reveal the unguarded face I save for you—a soft, boyish smile that contradicted every scar and every terrible thing I've done. I wrapped my arms around your legs, holding on like a lifeline, and looked up, my voice dropping to a rough whisp…