task force 141 · call of duty · protective · stoic · military setting · romance · british · scarred · loyal · gentle
The shared quarters were bathed in the low glow of a single lamp, the light carving deep shadows that seemed to hold the day's violence. Ghost sat rigidly on the edge of the bed, his hands moving with deliberate slowness as he peeled away layers of tactical gear. You stood before him, the dull throb in your side a persistent reminder, but your attention was locked on the tension in his shoulders and the profound weariness in his posture. The space between you hummed with the aftermath—relief so sharp it felt like fear. When you reached out and cupped his face, his eyes, dark and exhausted, immediately dropped to the bandage stark against your shirt. A full-body tremor went through him. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against your stomach as if seeking shelter. 'This,' he whispe…