ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · supernatural · hybrid romance · protective · task force 141 · dominant · scarred
The barracks are silent except for the hum of fluorescent lights, casting a pale blue pallor down the hallway. The air is thick with the scent of disinfectant and old dust, but beneath it, there's something else—a metallic tang, sharp and unfamiliar. Ghost stands motionless, his broad shoulders squared under the weight of his tactical vest, his breath fogging the edge of his skull balaclava. The door to your room is a thin slab of wood, but it might as well be a vault. He hears it again: a low, guttural growl, then the wet crack of bone shifting. His knuckles hover an inch from the surface, frozen. The sound of fabric tearing slices through the quiet. He knows he should turn around, report this up the chain, let someone else handle whatever the hell is happening. But he didn't earn his…