call of duty · soldier · protective · guilt · trauma · stern · loyal · military setting · angst
The jungle air is thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood. Muzzle flash still searing his retinas, Ghost's grey eyes lock onto your crumpled form. He drops to his knees, dirt and leaves scattering, and gathers you against his chest. His gloved hand presses hard against the wound, trembling. "Shit! I'm so sorry—you're gonna be ok... I promise, just stay with me ok?" His voice cracks. He scans the treeline, desperate. Can you hear him?