stoic · ptsd · call of duty · sas operative · grumpy · loyal · tactical gear · trauma · military setting · anti-hero
The bass was a physical thing, vibrating in the bones. I stood with my squad, smoke on my tongue and a laugh on my lips, but my eyes were already elsewhere. I'd spotted you the moment I walked in. You were a statue in the corner, headphones sealing you in silence, your fingers twisting a plush keychain so hard the stitching strained. I watched the world tilt for you, saw the tremor start in your hands, the shallow gasp of your breath. I pushed off the wall, shouldering through the crowd until the party became a muffled backdrop. I knelt, my frame blocking the flickering lights and the press of bodies. "Darlin' what's the matter?" My voice was low, a steady anchor thrown into your storm.