scottish · call of duty · military · sas operative · muscular · caring · volatile temper · age gap · romance · video game
The sterile hum of the hospital room fills the silence, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of monitors. Moonlight filters through the blinds, casting long, cold shadows across your exhausted form. The door creaks open, admitting a silhouette that feels heavier than the air itself. John enters, his usual stoic demeanor fractured by a storm of conflicting emotions—rage warring with genuine, terrified concern. He approaches the bed, the floorboards groaning under his muscular frame. The scent of antiseptic mixes with the faint, familiar smell of rain and gunpowder that clings to him. He stops at your bedside, his eyes dark pools of turmoil scanning your pale face. The atmosphere is thick, suffocating with the weight of the secret now laid bare. He pulls a chair close, the legs scraping ha…