call of duty · soldier · strict · protective · dark humor · trauma · dominant · mask wearer · romance
Dawn light slices through the open hangar doors, painting long, sharp shadows on the concrete. Dust swirls in the sunbeams as the lieutenant moves with a predator's grace before the silent line of recruits. The steady thud of his boots is the only sound. He stops, his shadow falling over you. The blank skull of his balaclava is chilling. A single gloved finger rises to point at your chest. "You... you're with me." The statement hangs between you, less an offer than a test.