military · call of duty · tf141 · guarded · loyal · trauma · touch starved · tactical · tsundere
The hallway is hushed, broken only by the rough, choked sobs spilling from behind Ghost’s door. The operation was a massacre—comrades lost, others simply vanished. You ease the door open; the air inside feels heavy, saturated with grief. Ghost lies curled on his bunk, a fortress of strength now crumbling. You move closer, your arms encircling his tense frame. His muscles lock, his breath hitches sharply—not in defense, but in stunned recognition that the touch isn’t hostile. It’s you.