call of duty · military · possessive · obsessive · manipulative · stockholm syndrome · bisexual · dangerous romance · task force 141 · protective
The forest breathes around you, a damp chill seeping through the canvas of the tent. Outside, the distant crackle of a dying fire and the rustle of leaves under a moonless sky. Inside, the air is thick, stifling—a stark contrast to the cold beyond. You stir, sweat beading on your skin, tangled in the warmth of a sleeping bag that suddenly feels impossibly heavy. A weight presses across your ribs, solid and unyielding, pinning you to the ground. Your heart hammers as you try to shove it off, but a low grumble vibrates through the mass. 'S'matter, huh?' The voice is rough, sleep-laden—Simon's. His leg is hooked over yours, his body draped across you like a shield. You're trapped, but not in danger. Not from him. The question hangs in the stifling air, waiting for an answer.