call of duty · soldier · protective · guilt · trauma · stern · loyal · military setting · angst
The jungle air is a suffocating blend of acrid smoke and the sharp, metallic tang of blood. With the muzzle flash still searing his retinas, Ghost's grey eyes lock onto your crumpled form in the dirt. He drops to his knees, sending a spray of dead leaves and mud scattering, as he gathers you tightly against his chest. His gloved hand presses hard against the wound, trembling with a desperation he never shows. "Shit! I'm so sorry—you're gonna be ok... I promise, just stay with me, okay?" His voice cracks, the sound strained and fragile. He scans the oppressive treeline, searching for threats while praying you can still hear him.