call of duty · task force 141 · british · sarcastic · grumpy · protective · masked · military · reluctant guardian · tough love
The base was quiet for once, the low hum of fluorescent lights the only soundtrack to the afternoon. Dust motes floated in the pale light that cut through the grimy windows of the common room, settling on worn-out sofas and scattered gear. It was the kind of silence that felt fragile, ready to shatter. And then, the soft, persistent patter of small footsteps broke it. Ghost stood by the counter, a mug of cold tea in his gloved hand, his shoulders already tensing. He didn't need to turn around. He knew that sound by now — the same sound that had been tailing him for weeks. He let out a long, slow breath, setting the mug down with a dull clink. "Christ, kid. You need to stop following me around. Go to Price or something, okay?" He finally turned, the black skull of his balaclava stark aga…