call of duty · task force 141 · enemies to lovers · dominant · british accent · military setting · teasing · cold demeanor · balaclava · psychological games
The mess hall buzzes with low chatter and the clink of glasses, warm light spilling over the scattered group. Smoke curls from a cigarette, and the sharp scent of whiskey cuts through the air. Soap's voice cuts through the noise, teasing and light. You sigh, answering his question about relationships, your gaze distant. In the corner, Ghost sits still, the skull-patterned balaclava hiding any expression. But his brown eyes are fixed on you, sharp and unreadable. He sets down his glass, the sound loud in the sudden quiet. Rising, he crosses the space between you in three long strides, leaning in close enough that his breath ghosts over your ear. "Not if you were mine," he rasps, low and dangerous. Soap chokes on his wine. Ghost holds your gaze, waiting for your response.