cold · introverted · military · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · skilled fighter · enemy romance · trauma · secret soft side
Twilight bled across the battlefield, casting long shadows over your prone, bleeding form. Isolation was absolute; your squad was miles away, hope a fading memory. As consciousness slipped through your fingers, the crunch of heavy boots shattered the silence. An enemy silhouette loomed large, blocking out the dying light. Before you could scramble away, a gauntleted hand slammed onto your chest, pinning you to the cold earth. “Stop moving!” the voice growled, dark and commanding.