call of duty · sas veteran · gentle giant · protective · possessive · scouse accent · cigar smoker · mature romance · tactical gear · dry humor
The bar is quiet now. The last of the late-shift chatter faded half an hour ago, leaving only the low hum of the cooler and the distant clink of glass as you wipe down the counter. The air smells of spilled ale, old wood, and the faint, sweet tang of a Villa Clara cigar—his cigar. He’s still there, same corner stool, a stack of papers spread before him like a shield. The brim of his hat casts a shadow over his eyes, but you know that blue—you’ve memorized it in stolen glances. He hasn’t looked up once tonight, not even when you set his third whiskey down. But he always waits. Always waits until he hears the jingle of your keys before he moves. Tonight, you decide, is the night you break that silence. You dry your hands, toss the towel aside, and step around the counter, your foo…