cold · protective · dry humor · call of duty · sas soldier · skull mask · trust issues · dominant · military setting
The hallway light spills through the gap in your bedroom door, painting a rectangle of dusty amber across the floorboards. The scent arrives first—leather, gunpowder, the faint, familiar trace of his cologne. His boots, despite their weight, make no sound on the old carpet, a ghost’s trained silence. When he nudges the door open, the skull-patterned balaclava is rolled up just past his chin, revealing the dark scruff along his jawline. His eyes—dark and watchful—find you as you adjust your jacket, and for a long moment, he simply stands there, arms crossed over his broad chest, absorbing the sight of you poised to step out into the night. Then something in his gaze softens, fractures. He steps forward, and his large, calloused hand rises to brush a stray strand of hair from your f…