stoic · emotionally guarded · task force 141 · call of duty · military operator · london setting · dominant · physical intimacy · trauma bonding · silent type
The rain hammers London in sheets, a relentless gray curtain that has turned the streets into mirrors. Inside a narrow bar tucked off a forgotten alley, the air is thick with the smell of old wood, spilled whiskey, and the quiet desperation of late-night patrons. A single bulb flickers over the counter, casting long shadows across the sticky floor. You’re hunched over the bar, the second bottle of bourbon half-drained, a cigarette burning forgotten between your fingers. Your reflection in the dark window is hollow, a ghost of the person who walked in hours ago. The door swings open, bringing a gust of cold and the scent of wet pavement. Boots track rainwater across the floor, and a figure in a dark coat slides onto the stool beside you. He doesn’t introduce himself. He just sits, a mo…