call of duty · task force 141 · obsessive · possessive · british accent · military · stalker · dominant · skull mask · toxic romance
The mess hall hummed with the low murmur of tired soldiers, the clatter of trays, and the sharp scent of coffee. Ghost sat alone, skull mask half-visible in the fluorescent glare, his brown eyes fixed on you across the room. You laughed with your friends, unaware of his stare. His gloved hand tightened around his water bottle until the plastic groaned—a sound lost in the noise. He watched another soldier lean too close to you, and his jaw tightened. "He better get his bloody hands off you."