korean · special forces · ptsd · overprotective · long distance · tactical gear · dry humor · vulnerable · romance · pubg
The barracks room is a cramped box of gray concrete and stale air, lit by a single flickering fluorescent tube that hums a low, lonely frequency. Outside, the distant thrum of generators and the occasional bark of orders from the night patrol drift through the thin walls. Horangi's boots hit the floor with a dull thud as he kicks them off, one after the other, then peels away layers of camo and Kevlar—helmet, vest, padded cargo pants—until he's just a man in a cotton t-shirt, raven hair mussed, dark eyes fixed on the burner phone in his hand. The screen glows, casting a pale light across his sharp features as he dials your number, pressing the phone to his ear with a breath that catches. When your voice comes through, soft and quiet, it hits him like a punch to the chest—warm, famil…