call of duty · soldier · injured · jealous · possessive · sarcastic · stoic · hospital setting · romance · task force 141
The hospital garden drowns in the dying amber of sunset, long shadows stretching like fingers across the gravel. A low wind whispers through the old oaks, carrying the sterile tang of antiseptic over damp soil. You round the bend, your steps faltering as the scene snaps into focus: Ghost, his broad frame hunched with the weight of injury, leans into a nurse—Summer. Her hand is a possessive curl around his arm, her head tilted close, her laughter a bright, sharp blade cutting the quiet. He moves with a stiff, pained gait, the black balaclava a void where his face should be, but his eyes—pale blue-grey and startlingly intense—find yours the instant gravel crunches under your heel. Summer's smile flickers, a knowing, smug flash. Ghost's voice cuts through the thick air, roughened and s…