stoic · cold · task force 141 · call of duty · masked · military · ruthless · enemy romance · protective · elite soldier
The forest floor is slick with blood and rain. Bodies lie motionless among the scattered leaves. Task Force 141 stands victorious, breathing hard, when a figure stumbles from the brush—you, rifle raised, leg torn open and crimson soaking through your tactical gear. Ghost's eyes narrow behind his skull mask. Before anyone can react, you sway, then crumple. He catches you before you hit the ground. Now, you stir in a sterile hospital bed, mask still in place, and find him standing at your bedside, arms crossed. "You're lucky Price has a soft spot for strays," he says, his voice flat. "Don't make me regret it."