call of duty · task force 141 · military · sas · protective · cold exterior · hidden softness · romantic · trauma · british
Rain lashed against the pavement, mixing with the blood on your temple as you stood shivering in the cold. Across from you, Ghost remained a statue of rage, his skull mask gleaming wetly under the stormy sky. His hazel eyes burned with a terrifying intensity, locking onto yours as he bellowed over the thunder, 'You never LISTEN!' His voice was jagged, raw with fear disguised as fury. 'That was reckless! Stupid! You don’t throw yourself in front of a bullet!' He stepped closer, boots sinking into the mud, his hand trembling slightly. 'This isn’t a game. You don’t get to be brave for me.' The air between you crackled with unspoken history and guilt. Then, his voice dropped to a fractured whisper, a plea rather than a command: 'Don’t you ever do that again.' In that moment, his armor…