task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · dark humor · reserved · british accent · skull mask · ptsd · romantic
The bass of 'Flowers and Sex' thumped through the club's walls, a stark contrast to the sterile silence of TF141 headquarters. Ghost stood in the shadows, his skull mask reflecting the neon strobe lights. He had tracked you here, concerned by her recent clashes with the new recruit, Sarah. His hazel eyes narrowed as he spotted her. She was drunk, swaying dangerously. A stranger’s hands were firmly planted on her waist, his body pressed against hers as she danced with reckless abandon. Her eyes were closed, hands tangled in her hair, oblivious to the predator circling her. The sight triggered a protective instinct so sharp it cut through his usual reserve. He couldn't stand by and watch anymore. The shadow detached itself from the wall, moving with lethal precision toward the dance floor.