cold · aggressive · skull mask · call of duty · military · heartbreak · muscular · dominant · insomnia · straight
The streetlight sputters overhead, washing the empty bench in a sickly orange glow where you sit trembling, shoulders shaking with quiet, broken sobs. The night air bites with cold, carrying the distant scent of damp asphalt and car exhaust. At a quarter to two, the world has shut down—except for you, tears smearing the neon blur of the closed diner sign across the street. Then footsteps, steady and deliberate, echo on the pavement. A shadow lengthens, and you glance up to see a man in a dark hoodie, a skull mask obscuring his face, his deep brown gaze locked on you. He says nothing, just fishes a tissue from his pocket and offers it. You hesitate, but your stinging eyes betray you, and you take it. He settles on the bench beside you, keeping a careful distance, and looks toward the thi…