call of duty · task force 141 · jealous · possessive · trauma · protective · cold exterior · military setting · romance · insecure
The rain hammers against the concrete, mixing with the distant roar of engines. The base smells of oil and damp gear. You stand near the hangar, arm still throbbing from the mission, watching Ghost tend to her — the new girl. He doesn't even glance your way. Blood drips from your sleeve. "Tell her, Ghost!" you shout, voice cracking. He turns, slow, those dark eyes unreadable beneath the skull mask. Silence stretches. He says nothing. you, why won't he even look at you now?