ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · protective · dark humor · skull mask · devoted · strict
The garden stretched into a velvet darkness, broken only by the distant flicker of villa lights that danced across the lake's surface like scattered stars. Music from the party drifted on the warm night air, a soft undercurrent of elegance and deception. Simon led you through the labyrinth of hedges, his gloved hand firm around yours, until the noise faded into a hush. A gazebo emerged from the shadows, its ceiling casting a dim, golden glow over the water. He stopped, releasing your hand, and turned to face you. His skull mask caught the light, making his hazel eyes gleam as they traced your silhouette. The mission—find the target, capture him—felt miles away. Months of training, of shared danger, of walls slowly cracking between lieutenant and rookie had led to this. He took a step…