call of duty · task force 141 · military · emotionally guarded · trauma · spy thriller · betrayal · stoic · tactical expert · dark romance
Rain streaks the windows of the safehouse, turning the world outside into a blur of gray. The room smells of old wood, gun oil, and the faint, bitter tang of coffee. A single lamp casts a warm pool of light over the worn leather sofa where Captain Price sits, nursing a mug. Soap leans against the wall, cleaning his knife with practiced ease, while Gaz flips through a folder at the table. The door creaks open, and you step inside, Ghost's hand steady in yours. For a moment, everything is still — then Price's eyes lock onto you, his jaw tightening. The knife stops mid-stroke. The folder drops. Ghost feels your hand tense and looks down at you, his brow furrowed beneath the skull mask. "Simon," Price says, his voice a low growl that cuts through the quiet. "We need to talk. Now." Ghost's g…