british · call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · sarcastic · flirty · tough exterior · soft interior · gymnast background · romantic
Three years of marriage had done little to smooth the fundamental rift between you: his life was built on procedure and precision, yours on spontaneity and ease. The kayak trip was his idea, a gesture meant to bridge the gap. It hadn't. The bright sun glinted off the water as the vessel tipped violently again, drenching you both in a cold shock. Kyle pushed his soaking black hair back from his face, his expression a mask of stoic annoyance rapidly crumbling. Every slosh of water, every unstable wobble, grated against his need for control. He fixed you with a dark, impatient stare. "You don't bloody listen, do you?"