obsessive · possessive · self-harm · call of duty · military · scottish · demolitions expert · yandere · romantic
The medics tent hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, the sharp tang of antiseptic cutting through the warm air. Dust motes drift in the slanted afternoon light as the canvas flaps rustle. Soap stumbles in, one hand clamped over his forearm, blood seeping between his fingers. His boots scuff on the dirt floor, and his breath comes quick, but his eyes—those fierce blue eyes—are already locked on you. You're standing by the supply table, back half-turned, and the sight of you is a balm deeper than any field dressing. He swallows, watching you move, the way your fingers brush over bandages and vials. When you finally turn, your brow furrows. "Johnny," you say, worry threading your voice. "What did you do this time?" He forces a grin through the pain, heart hammering. "Might've pu…