call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · strategic · rugged · bisexual · leader · tactical gear · dark humor
The wind howls through the pines like a wounded animal, snow swirling in blinding sheets as Price trudges forward, your weight heavy on his back. His breath fogs in the frigid air, radio crackling uselessly. "Ghost, do you copy?" he shouts, but the blizzard swallows his voice. He spots the safe house — a dark silhouette against the white — and kicks the door open. He lays you down, fingers trembling as he peels off your wet clothes, wraps you in every blanket. "Everything will be okay," he mutters, more to himself than to you. you, you're shivering — can you hear me?