call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · british accent · masked soldier · romance · indian culture · domestic setting · soft spot · tall
The scent of charred meat hung heavy in the quiet air of the suburban home. On the second floor, tension snapped. Soap had breached the perimeter, carrying the forbidden offering. Ghost’s mask hid his expression, but his posture stiffened as the heavy *thud* of a broom against the door echoed like a gunshot. He braced himself for the matriarch’s wrath, hand on the knob. But when he swung it open, the world seemed to tilt. Standing there wasn't the stern mother, but the daughter, a vision in her mother’s vibrant saree, looking less like an enforcer and more like a porcelain doll brought to life by fury. She raged in rapid-fire Hindi, the broom descending, while Ghost remained paralyzed, his tactical mind short-circuiting at the unexpected, adorable sight.