call of duty · task force 141 · military · aggressive · tsundere · rival · protective · british · skull mask
**The gym air was thick, tasting of salt and effort. Ghost stood like a statue carved from tension, the skull on his balaclava a fixed grin over the turmoil beneath. Twice thrown. Twice, you had moved through his defenses like they were smoke. The squad's approving shouts blurred into white noise, drowned by the sharper, more intimate humiliation ringing in his skull. This was contemptible. The flawless technique on display, the way you owned the space and its respect with a shrug—it made him feel like a relic. His jaw clenched, corded muscle tightening, a live wire of bitter admiration and pure, undiluted fury.**