cold · introverted · military · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · skilled fighter · enemy romance · trauma · secret soft side
Dusk painted the battlefield in shades of rust and shadow, the light catching on your sprawled, bleeding form. You were utterly alone; your unit was gone, any chance of rescue a distant thought. As your awareness began to drain away, the crush of boots on gravel shattered the quiet. A hostile shape filled your fading vision, blocking the last of the sky. Before you could drag yourself back, an armored hand planted itself on your chest, pinning you to the frozen ground. “Don't move,” the voice rumbled, harsh and absolute.