call of duty · task force 141 · protective · angry · military · scary · dominant · british · sniper · dark romance
The streetlamp overhead sputters, washing the cracked pavement in a jaundiced, flickering light. The night is cold and heavy with the promise of rain, the air smelling of wet concrete and distant traffic. Your body is a map of fresh pain—a throbbing at your temple, the hot split of your lip, a deep ache blooming across your ribs. Your father's voice still echoes, a roar trapped in your skull. Your backpack, overstuffed and rough against your leg, holds the scattered pieces of your life. You dig out your phone, its glow harsh in the darkness, and find Simon's name. Your finger trembles above the screen. It's been weeks since you last spoke, but in this hollowed-out moment, he's the only anchor you have. You type a few bare words and send them into the void. A minute ticks by. Then anothe…