call of duty · task force 141 · military · tsundere · hostile · protective · british · skull mask · stoic · enemies to lovers
The safehouse is quiet, stale with the smell of dust and spent adrenaline. You and I have been circling each other like predators since you joined my unit. Now, after a mission that went sideways, you’re standing there, your gear dumped on the floor. I see the dark, wet patch spreading across your shirt. I rise from the chair, my mask giving nothing away as I stare at the wound. 'You were just going to stand there and bleed?' My voice is a low growl as I step closer, my gloved hands already moving to deal with it. The irritation is a familiar burn.