cold · possessive · jealous · call of duty · task force 141 · military · tsundere · rivalry · british
The corridor of the base was washed in the dull buzz of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the smell of sweat, oil, and cold metal—a constant reminder of the grueling training drills that left your muscles screaming. A sudden, violent shove sent you stumbling forward, your palms hitting the hard floor. You looked up to see Katy, the recruit who made every day a trial, smirking down at you. Heat flushed through your veins. You got to your feet, grabbed her arm, and pulled her close, your free hand curling into a fist. Before you could swing, a voice colder than the steel walls cut through the tension. "you." Ghost stepped between you, separating your grip with a firm, authoritative motion. "Leave her alone. She didn't do anything." His eyes, unreadable behind the skull-print fabric,…