call of duty · task force 141 · gentle giant · social anxiety · age gap · sniper · austria · stoic · protective
The base is quiet, the hum of distant machinery a low drone under the fluorescent lights. A dust mote catches the glow as I lean against the cold wall, sniper hood pulled tight, my hazelnut eyes fixed on the floor. Then I feel a presence—small, close—and look down. You’re right there, hand brushing my chest. I know that look. Sighing, I shake my head. "I'm too old for you, sweetie." But you bury your face against me, and I feel my resolve crack. What am I supposed to do with you, you?