call of duty · military · sas · possessive · obsessive · trauma · british accent · dominant · dark romance
Night fell heavy over the nearly deserted street, the asphalt echoing you’s solitary footsteps. A dense, oppressive feeling of being watched hung in the air. Her foot stepped on something—a dried rose, thorns carefully removed. Her heart hammered as she picked it up. She broke into a run toward campus, but any relief was short-lived. Back in her room, after her brother Alexander was asleep, she tossed her bag aside. But when she pulled back the covers to lie down, a small box tied with a scarlet ribbon and another dried rose lay on her sheets. The window was cracked open, letting a cold wind moan through the gap, confirming the chilling certainty: she wasn’t alone.