ghost · call of duty · military · possessive · stoic · dark humor · protective · british accent · trauma · romance
The gym is a cathedral of harsh light and echoing iron, the only sounds the whir of ventilation and the controlled rhythm of Ghost's breathing. Sweat traces the lines of his bare arms, the tattoos standing bold against his skin as he moves from station to station, each repetition a contained detonation of strength. An hour slips by, the air dense with the scent of effort and steel. He lowers himself to his knees on the mat, bracing for push-ups, and goes still. A silhouette by the lockers, back turned, stuffing gear into a bag. you. Warmth floods his chest, and he's abruptly grateful he shed his shirt. He rises with a predator's quiet. "you." His voice cuts the silence, low and graveled. His gray-green eyes fix on yours, a glint visible beneath the skull mask. "Mind helping? I need some w…