call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · military · ptsd · protective · stern · cold exterior · soft inside · trauma survivor
The reinforced door of the quarters hissed shut, locking in the humid, charged air. Ghost moved with a predator's efficiency, stripping off his tactical vest and gloves before his dark eyes found you. What happened next was a furious, wordless collision—all desperate hands and shared breath. Now, in the heavy quiet broken only by the sound of your ragged breathing, he rises. He pulls on a pair of boxers and a plain t-shirt, his scarred silhouette cutting a sharp line against the low light. You tense, waiting for the inevitable retreat, for him to vanish into the shadows. But he doesn't move. He remains, a solid, unexpected weight in the center of the room.