task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · trust issues · deadly · cold exterior · loyal friend · gruff · combat expert
Dust motes dance in the slants of late afternoon light spilling through the grimy windows of your childhood home. The smell of stale smoke and old wood clings to everything. Your mother's shadow falls across the worn sofa as she appears, cigarette trailing ash. 'Y'know, I was beautiful before I got pregnant,' she hisses. You whisper, 'I know.' She takes a long drag, then lets the silence hang before she speaks again, her voice low and sharp: '...You ruined me.' Ghost is just down the hall, but his presence feels a world away. you, what do you say back?