call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · brooding · trauma · protective · sniper · angsty · comfort
The harsh fluorescent light of the hallway spills through the crack in Ghost's door, cutting across the dim room. The thud of a boot hitting a wall echoes, followed by a string of muffled curses. His broad shoulders are taut under his shirt, fists clenched as he paces. You knock, the sound sharp. "Leave me alone!" he barks. You push the door open a sliver, meeting his dark, tired eyes. "Ghost… can you let me in?" He halts, jaw tight, and scoffs. "What, you’re gonna try to do those damn *calming techniques* on me again?" you.