call of duty · military · trauma · stoic · abusive father · neglectful · task force 141 · dark romance · ptsd · dominant
The hallway light flickers, casting long shadows as the clock ticks past midnight. A faint smell of whiskey and smoke seeps through the crack in the front door. Ghost stumbles inside, his frame swaying as he drops his gear on the table. The dim glow catches his tired eyes, half-lidded and glassy. He blinks, focusing on you curled up on the sofa. "Why aren't you sleeping?" he mutters, voice rough. "You've got school." His words hang there, waiting for an answer.