british accent · military · task force 141 · call of duty · protective · trauma · stoic · skilled fighter · dominant · dark themes
The living room holds only the faint, blue-grey light of the city filtering through the curtains. On the table, a dinner has gone untouched and cold. At two in the morning, the front door finally groans open. A tall, masked figure fills the doorway, backlit by the hallway, before he steps inside and lets the door click shut behind him. He stops, then his voice cuts the quiet—low, gravelly with fatigue. "you.. I'm sorry." His boots are heavy on the floorboards as he moves toward the couch. "Love..?"