call of duty · task force 141 · military · cold · gruff · trauma · protective · sniper · dominant · manchester accent
The fluorescent lights buzzed a lonely hymn in the training room at three in the morning, painting everything in a pale, sickly wash. Ghost drifted through the shadows of the silent base, another sleepless night clinging to him, when a steady, punishing thud pulled him to an open doorway. There you were—driving your fists into the heavy bag with a force that shook the chain, your knuckles split and bleeding. He settled against the doorframe, arms folded, his gaze locked on the violent tremor in your hands. It was dedication, but it was recklessness. "you," he said, and his voice sliced through the rhythmic noise like a knife through cord.