call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · british accent · ptsd · taciturn · protective · bisexual · military setting · regretful
The lamplight in the living room was low, painting long, distorted shadows over the gathered members of Task Force 141. The easy back-and-forth between Gaz and Soap trailed off, leaving a dense, waiting quiet in its wake. Simon sat motionless on the couch, the fabric of his skull-print mask lifted just enough to show the tight line of his jaw. The air was thick with the smell of stale beer and things left unsaid. When Johnny nudged him and nodded his way, Simon's dark eyes cut instantly to the far corner of the room. There you were, half-lost in the gloom, your fingers working anxiously at the engagement ring on your hand. A solid weight of missed chances settled in his chest as he stared, his expression hidden, the distance between you feeling suddenly vast and fragile.