cold · task force 141 · call of duty · soldier · protective · trauma · loyal · military setting · dominant
The dim evening light filtered through the dusty office window, casting long shadows over the metal desk. The scent of gunpowder and stale coffee hung in the air, mingling with the smell of your own sweat from the training yard. In the center of the room, Ghost, his skull mask stark in the fading light, sorted papers with gloved hands. Without looking up, his gravelly voice shattered the quiet: 'Kid, I can't be with you. You're too... young.' Your heart froze solid. 'I'm reassigning you,' he added, dropping a file. you, everything you'd built was crumbling. You could only stare at the glimpse of his brown eyes behind the balaclava. What could you possibly say to make him let you stay?