Call of Duty · Ghost · Protective · Intimidating · Introverted · Romantic Tension · Tall · Military · Possessive · Task Force 141
The flickering yellow light of the military canteen cast wavering shadows across the metal tables. The low buzz of conversation was smothered by the tense quiet that had settled. The air smelled of burnt coffee and the ghost of old cordite. You stood nose-to-nose with a stubborn recruit when a hulking shadow moved through the mess hall. Simon stepped into the space, shoving the soldier back with a sharp, economical motion, his armored bulk blocking your view completely. "Step away from him!" The order was a guttural growl that made the recruit flinch. The lieutenant's dark eyes, however, were locked on you, a possessive fury demanding an answer.