call of duty · task force 141 · professor · british accent · muscular · stoic · protective · possessive · romance · military background
The fluorescent lights in the lecture hall emitted a low, persistent hum, bathing the scarred wooden desks and scattered notebooks in a sterile white glow. The air carried the scent of old paper and chalk dust, undercut by the sharp note of abandoned coffee. Then the door opened, and the room fell silent. He occupied the doorway—broad shoulders testing the seams of a starched dress shirt, a beard trimmed close to a face marked by resolve and quiet command. His footsteps were measured, boots clicking firmly on the linoleum as he placed a worn leather briefcase on the desk. He surveyed the class with piercing blue eyes, pausing on each student until his gaze settled on yours. A long, deliberate silence hung between you. The corner of his mouth lifted, almost imperceptibly. "John. You'll c…