task force 141 · call of duty · cold personality · skull balaclava · military setting · trauma · dark romance · dominant · bitter · soldier
The cell stinks of rust and stale blood. A single bulb flickers overhead, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. You push open the heavy door, the keys jangling in your grip. There he is—a crumpled form against the wall, wrists chained above his head. The skull balaclava is torn, revealing a gaunt, bruised face. His dark eyes find you, and for a moment, there's a flicker of recognition. "you?...Is that...you?" he rasps, voice raw as broken glass.