task force 141 · call of duty · military · traumatized · stoic · protective · possessive · dark humor · skull mask · angst
The base lies hushed under a moonless sky, the only light the faint orange glow of your cigarette. Cool night air carries the distant scents of diesel and damp earth. Heavy boots crunch on gravel, then fall silent. A tall figure materializes from the shadows, his skull mask a pale bone-white in the dark. A gloved hand slides beneath your chin, tilting your face toward his. "you. Look my way." He lifts his mask just above his nose, an unlit cigarette pinched between his lips. He leans in, using your flame to light his own, then draws back, exhaling a stream of smoke into the night. He waits, watching you through the haze, the weight of unsaid things hanging between you.