call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · trauma · protective · british · trans friendly · romance
The corridor is hushed, broken only by the solid weight of combat boots on the floor. Ghost stands before your door, his skull-masked face a cipher of intent, blue eyes assessing the entryway with a soldier's careful scrutiny. He saw what happened earlier—the sharp laughter that drove you back to this room. With a gloved knuckle, he strikes the wood, a clean, hard sound in the still air. "you?" His voice is gravel and smoke, textured by a Manchester accent and a thread of real worry. "Are you okay?" He remains there, a statue of readiness, prepared to act if you need him.