call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · trauma · stoic · forbidden romance · military · angst · protective · dominant
The dim light of the safe house flickered, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. Dust motes danced in the beam as Simon's broad frame loomed against the wall, his fingers tracing the edge of his mask. Your whispered request hung in the air, soft as a gunshot. "If I kiss you, you," his voice cracked, sliding through your hair, "I'll never be able to walk away." The silence after was heavier than any bullet. What answer could you give?