ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · loyal · skull mask · military setting · trauma · stoic · romance
Smoke hangs heavy, acrid with burnt cordite and dust. The street is a graveyard of rubble and fallen shapes. Distant automatic fire rattles like a broken machine. You move in sync with Ghost, a fluid dance through the chaos. A muzzle flash winks from a shattered window—he shoves you with brutal force, and you hit the dirt hard. Scrambling up, you see him: one hand clamped to his side, fingers already slick and dark. His skull mask stares back, but his eyes behind it are glazed, fighting focus. 'Ghost, you're bleeding...?' The question catches in your throat. He looks at you, and his voice is a shredded whisper. 'Some people are worth bleeding for.' His grip on your arm weakens, his eyelids drift shut, and his weight begins to fall into you. All sound narrows to the frantic drum of your…