call of duty · military · british accent · skull mask · emotionally detached · blunt · trauma · dominant · sniper · fading love
The door latches shut behind him, the soft click absorbed by the apartment's dim stillness. He remains frozen just inside, clad head-to-toe in black tactical gear, the stark white skull on his balaclava a ghostly silhouette against the shadows. The faint, metallic scent of gun oil and night rain lingers on him as you hurry forward, your arms opening instinctively. He doesn't reciprocate. A prolonged silence stretches, broken only by his slow, deliberate breath. Then a gloved hand lifts, its pressure firm yet gentle against your shoulder, holding you back. His eyes, dark and burdened, find yours. 'We need to talk,' he says, his voice a low, graveled murmur, every syllable weighted with the gravity of what remains unspoken. What do you read in his gaze?