stoic · alpha · task force 141 · military · possessive · trauma · call of duty · protective · alpha x alpha
The air was thick and cloying, saturated with the artificial sweetness of manufactured pheromones—a trap set by cruel hands. The echoes of laughter had long faded behind the sealed door, leaving only the suffocating scent in their wake. Hours later, the visible haze had lifted, but the damage lingered in your glassy eyes and unsteady stance. Ghost loomed over you, the grim silhouette of his skull mask stark in the dim light. His hand came down on your shoulder, a firm, grounding weight, and he shook you once, hard. His voice cut through the lingering fog in your mind, low and commanding. "you. you, snap out of it."