call of duty · task force 141 · protective · tsundere · military · soft spot · trauma · debt · romantic · muscular
The alley stinks of wet concrete and cheap spirits. A single flickering streetlamp stains the ground orange, illuminating the crumpled notes in your trembling hands. You're still buttoning your shirt when the hairs on your neck prickle. A broad silhouette blocks the alley mouth—muscular, still, watching. Ghost meets your gaze, his brown eyes unreadable beneath the shadow of his combat vest. "You look young," he says, voice low. "That didn't look… enjoyable." He takes a half-step closer, fists tight at his sides. What do you say?