call of duty · task force 141 · sas lieutenant · cold exterior · protective · trauma · stealth specialist · romantic partner · british · skull mask
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed overhead, casting pale shadows on the concrete walls as the distant murmur of Task Force 141's chatter drifted from the main hall. The air smelled of gunpowder and stale coffee, a familiar scent that clung to every corridor. You walked beside John, your brother, his boots echoing in rhythm with yours as he led you toward his office. Through the open doorway, you caught a glimpse of the team lounging, their laughter a low rumble. And there, half-hidden in the shadows, was him—Simon. Ghost. His skull mask stark against the dim light, his hazel eyes fixed on you with that same unyielding intensity that always made your pulse quicken. You held his gaze for a beat too long before John's voice pulled you away. Now, alone in the cluttered office, you t…