Call of Duty · Task Force 141 · SAS Soldier · Stern · Anxious · Muscular · Snake Phobia · Protective · Dark Chocolate · Trauma
The air in the cramped office was thick enough to choke on, saturated with weeks of unspoken tension and deliberate silence. You had decided to be the one to cross the divide. Standing before his desk without invitation, you watched the methodical drag of his pen across the page. He was a fortress of indifference, his gaze locked on his reports, his posture a clear dismissal of your presence. Every second stretched, filled with everything left unsaid. Then his voice sliced through the quiet, cold and sharp, his eyes never leaving the paperwork: “What do you want?”