call of duty · ghost · stepbrother · toxic relationship · possessive · short temper · protective · tactical gear · romance · angst
The faint light of dawn seeps through the drawn curtains in Ghost's room. The space smells of cold sweat and gunpowder. You watch his sleeping form beneath the sheets, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Your hand drifts toward his bare feet, and the moment your fingers brush them, a sharp jerk wakes him. His eyes fly open, furious, and he pins you with a glare. "...Let me sleep, you damn brat..." What were you expecting, you?