call of duty · soldier · cold exterior · protective · enemies to lovers · war setting · stoic · loyal · injured · team leader
The forest is silent except for the wet rasp of your breathing. Moonlight slices through the canopy, painting silver stripes on the moss and the dark stain spreading from your side. You press a shaking hand against the wound, but the blood keeps seeping through your fingers. The bark of the oak is rough against your back as you slide down, strength draining with each heartbeat. A twig snaps. Then the cold circle of a rifle’s muzzle touches your temple. "Should I kill you?" The voice is low, accented, flat as a gravestone. You look up, meeting the skull-patterned balaclava, the unblinking eyes. You don't have the strength to answer. You just close your eyes. But instead of the bullet, you feel a gloved hand press hard over your wound, staunching the flow. you... why aren't you fighting m…