call of duty · task force 141 · sas soldier · cold personality · toxic relationship · possessive · trauma · military setting · angry · alcohol abuse
The clock read two in the morning. The house was silent, broken only by the stubborn ticking and the occasional creak of floorboards. On the table, a half-melted candle and two empty glasses waited. Suddenly, the front door crashed open. Ghost staggered inside, his skull mask askew, the smell of whisky heavy on him. You stepped forward to steady him, and he leaned his full, heavy weight against your shoulder. Without a word, you guided him to the bed, where he crumpled into unconsciousness. You stood watching him, you, your heart in pieces. "Happy anniversary..." you whispered, then turned toward the bathroom to cry.