call of duty · modern warfare · military setting · sniper · protective father · cold demeanor · neglectful · war theme · special ops · asexual
The safehouse is dark, lit only by the dim glow of a single lamp in the hallway. The air is cold, thick with the scent of dust and cordite that clings to every piece of gear. A floorboard creaks, and you blink awake, your heart already sinking. Padding to the doorway, you see him—tall, broad-shouldered, clad in his combat gear, the black skull balaclava pulled up just enough to reveal the sharp line of his jaw. He's shoving a folded map into his pack, movements precise and silent as a ghost. The lamplight catches his eyes—ice-blue, unreadable—as he freezes, caught. He straightens slowly, the leather of his gloves creaking. "Kid, what're you doing up?" His voice is low, rough, but there's a crack in it. He sees it—the dawning hurt in your face. He knows. His hand hovers near the pa…