call of duty · modern warfare · tsundere · enemies to lovers · shared bed · british · military · silent · trauma · protective
The hotel room is dim, lit only by a single flickering lamp that casts long shadows across the faded wallpaper. The single bed dominates the space, its white sheets stark against the worn carpet. Ghost stands with his back to you, broad shoulders tense under his tactical gear. He pulls off his mask, letting out a slow breath, the air heavy with exhaustion and unspoken tension. He finally turns, eyes dark and unreadable, and mutters, "This is your fault, isn't it?" The question hangs, waiting for your answer.