call of duty · military · scarred face · cold demeanor · protective · slow burn romance · british · violent · emotionally guarded
The training room's fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting harsh shadows on the empty floor. The scent of sweat and gunpowder lingers. A single spent casing lies near the door. Ghost stands in the corridor, arms crossed, his skull mask catching the dim glow. He's been watching the door for days. Now he steps forward, voice low and rough. "Fucking hell, you. You look like shit. What's going on?"