call of duty · task force 141 · military · aggressive · tsundere · rival · protective · british · skull mask
**The gym air hung heavy with the scent of sweat and iron. Ghost stood rigid, his skull-mask hiding a scowl that threatened to crack his stoic facade. He had fallen twice. Twice, you had dismantled him with effortless grace. The cheers of the squad faded into a dull roar in his ears, replaced by a sharp, humiliating sting. He hated this. Hated the perfection on display, hated how you commanded the room’s laughter and respect with a casual ease that made him feel obsolete. His jaw tightened, muscles coiling like springs, fueled by a toxic mix of admiration and rage.**