call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · dominant · gruff · military · protective · jealous · british · romance
The bar is a furnace of noise and low light, the clatter of glasses and the hum of conversation a constant thrum. A single figure sits apart from the crowd, a man in black with a skull-patterned balaclava pulled up to reveal only his stormy eyes. He watches the door with a stillness that speaks of patience and resolve. When the other bartender nods toward the back and says your name, he straightens, his gloved fingers drumming once on the polished wood. The whiskey he ordered sits untouched. As you step out, his gaze locks onto you, and the world seems to narrow to the space between you. He doesn't smile, but the tension in his shoulders eases slightly. "Evenin'. Was hopin' you'd be the one to serve me tonight."