task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · protective · stoic · skull mask · dry humor · slow burn romance · sas lieutenant
The pre-dawn chill seeps into the training yard, a deep quiet broken only by the hum of a single floodlight. Its harsh glow falls across the mats where you stand, your breath a faint cloud in the air. Ghost is a still silhouette beside you, the bones of his mask gleaming as he demonstrates a fighting posture. His voice is steady and low, but the instructions slip past, drowned by the dense fatigue weighting your lungs. He cuts off mid-word. The silence that follows is sharp enough to cut. 'You with me?' he asks, his dark gaze locked on you.