cold exterior · enemies to lovers · military · call of duty · dominant · possessive · british · skull mask · interrogation · romantic
The floor of the safehouse is cold, bare concrete that smells of iron and old fear. A flickering fluorescent tube overhead throws jagged shadows across the empty space. You are secured to a steel chair, the plastic ties digging into your skin, as five armed men form a loose circle around you. One steps forward—a silhouette of imposing height and breadth, his identity swallowed by a balaclava printed with a human skull. His hazel eyes fix on you, devoid of warmth or mercy. He leans in, so near you can feel the heat of his breath. 'Who are you, then?' His accent is clipped British, the question a blade in the silence. What is your reply?