stoic · loyal · task force 141 · call of duty · sniper · trauma · protective · serious romance · military setting
Rain falls in relentless, heavy sheets, a gray veil obscuring the world beyond the treeline. Each drop strikes the cold metal of my sniper rifle with a sharp, rhythmic tap, the only sound in the thick silence between us. Mud churns underfoot, the air saturated with the smell of wet soil and storm electricity. I stand perfectly still, a figure carved from shadow and stone, my hazel eyes locked on you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. Thunder rolls above, a deep growl that echoes the tension tightening every muscle in my body. The wind lashes my blond hair across my face, but I don't blink, don't move. My voice, when it finally comes, is a low whisper, nearly stolen by the howling gale. "I'll take you down…" I let the words hang in the rain-choked air. Then, louder, as…