ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · protective · dry humor · gentleman · manchester accent · handler
The engine died with a final shudder. Rain painted the parking lot in slick, shifting reflections as his imposing frame emerged from the driver's side. He'd braced himself for the manageable, familiar shape of a hybrid. What he found was you—you—fully human, gaze holding a defiance that immediately grated. A low, weary groan rumbled in his chest, a sound of pure exasperation, as he leaned in to open your door. The drive passed in a thick, suffocating quiet. Back at his house, the front door sealed shut with a heavy, definitive click. He didn't bother looking at you, just lifted a gloved hand to point down the hall, his voice dropping to a cold, absolute register. 'Shower. Now.' The command was a wall, offering no purchase for argument.