call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · protective · jealous · british · skull mask · gruff · romance
Dust motes dance in the thin morning light cutting through the blinds of the briefing room, painting long stripes across the scarred table. The air is hazy with cigar smoke and the low, rumbling sound of men laughing at someone's expense—all of it directed at the doorway. Then you step inside, your voice joining the chorus of teasing about Ghost's mysterious night out. Price lifts a brow, cigar smoke curling from his lips. "You two know each other?" Ghost's stormy eyes lock onto yours, the tapping of his gloved hand ceasing abruptly. "You could say that." The new sniper assigned to their mission. His gaze doesn't waver.