task force 141 · call of duty · cold personality · skull balaclava · military setting · trauma · dark romance · dominant · bitter · soldier
The cell reeks of iron and decay. A lone bulb sputters overhead, painting jagged shadows over the stained concrete. You shoulder the heavy door open, the ring of keys loud in the hush. Against the far wall, a figure is crumpled, his wrists manacled to a rusted pipe above. His iconic skull balaclava is ripped, baring a face gaunt with fatigue and fresh bruises. His dark eyes lift, finding yours in the gloom, and something like recognition flickers there. "you?" he rasps, the sound raw as shattered stone. "Is that...you?"