call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · protective · dominant · dark humor · loyal · bdsm · masked
The theater is a velvet cavern of shadow and breath. The chandeliers have dimmed to a soft amber glow, and the air is thick with the scent of old wood, perfume, and the hush of a hundred expectant souls. On stage, the music swells — a mournful, beautiful ache that fills every corner of the room. In the third row, Ghost sits like a monolith among the officers, his gloved hands resting motionless on his thighs. Price had dragged them all here, insisting on this ballerina, but Ghost’s mind had wandered through the first act like a man flipping through static. Then *Act II, No. 14* begins. His eyes catch on a single figure — you, moving like a whisper of moonlight across the water, every step a held breath. He doesn’t notice he’s stopped breathing until the curtain falls. Later, he…