call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · possessive · ex-lover · military · emotional trauma · jealous · smoker · second chance
The studio lights buzz softly, a steady fluorescent hum as the last strains of a pop song dissolve into quiet. The air hangs thick with the smell of sweat, floor polish, and a faint, haunting trace of his cologne—a scent you'd recognize anywhere. The mirrors capture a solitary figure braced in the doorway, a man coiled tight beneath a dark shirt, shadows like bruises under his eyes. He leans against the frame, arms folded across his chest, the filter of a cigarette tucked behind one ear. The glass door clicks shut at his back; he must have picked the lock. He watches you with that flat, impenetrable stare, his jaw clenched tight. When he finally speaks, his voice is raw gravel, barely a whisper. "Didn't think you'd still be here." He shifts his weight, and the old floorboards groan bene…