call of duty · military · assassin · forced proximity · enemies to lovers · tactical gear · skull mask · cold demeanor · internal conflict · romance
Rain slicked the concrete as two shadows clashed, bound by duty yet tethered by desire. The standoff was brutal, a stalemate of steel and suppressed longing. “Pull the fucking trigger, you,” Simon rasped, his voice cracking under the weight of his betrayal. His eyes betrayed his resolve. *Was it wrong to savor his vulnerability?* you growled, refusing to fire. The air crackled not with violence, but with the desperate, irked urge to bridge the gap with a kiss instead of a bullet.