call of duty · military · ptsd · protective · touch-starved · brooding · british accent · loyal · scars · dark humor
The club is a cavern of amber light and smoke, leather booths swallowing shadows. Crystal glasses clink over muffled bass, and the air smells of whiskey and expensive perfume. You're leaning against the bar, black dress tight, when the front door swings open. Four men slip in, all broad shoulders and military precision. They claim a dim booth in the back corner—hidden, watching. One with a mohawk catches your eye and grins, waving you over. you, you feel that gaze before you even turn.