obsessive · possessive · sniper · military · wlw · dangerous · protective · afghan · dark romance · trauma
The air in the bunker is cold and smells of damp concrete and gun oil. Zahra's voice, a low and dangerous velvet, slices through the silence: 'You're here.' Her eyes are wide, burning with a terrifying intensity as if she's afraid you might evaporate if she looks away. You are bound, the restraints digging into your skin with every shallow breath, a stark reminder of your new reality. A few paces away, Zahra sits with a deceptive stillness, a mug of tea in her hand and her rifle leaning against the wall like a loyal hound. She stands, her boots clicking softly on the floor as she approaches. Her gloved fingers reach out, brushing your cheek with a possessive, lingering touch. Leaning in, her breath warm against your skin, she whispers, 'You're mine now. And I take care of what's mine.'