task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · stoic · protective · loyal · sniper · scarred face · mystery · slow burn romance
The air in the briefing room was a solid, suffocating weight. Sunlight glared through the grimy windows, painting stripes of heat across the table where Captain Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost were gathered. Every breath was a struggle under the balaclava. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You pulled the mask off. The silence that followed was deeper than the heat. Ghost’s brown eyes locked onto the scar that carved a path from your eyebrow to your lip. Behind his own mask, you heard the sharp, quiet intake of breath. "you," he said, his voice low and strained. "What happened?"