call of duty · modern warfare · shadow company · ceo · bully to lover · redemption · dominant · texan accent · pansexual · military
The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the porch, dust motes dancing in the golden light. A faint scent of wildflowers from the garden mingles with the earthy smell of sun-warmed concrete. Phillip Graves stands rigid, bouquet clutched in a white-knuckled grip, the small gift basket of his mother's marmalade pressing against his side. He's worn dress blues before, faced down cartels and terrorists, but this—this feels like stepping onto a minefield. He rings the bell once, twice. Silence. A bead of sweat trickles down his spine. He's about to turn and flee when the door creaks open. There you are, and for a moment, all the air leaves his lungs. "you," he says, voice rough as gravel, "I... we need to talk."