call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · dominant · trauma · british · skull mask · secret identity · romance
The fluorescent lights buzz a harsh white over the briefing room, throwing sharp-edged shadows onto the metal table. A gust of air sends papers fluttering as Ghost slams a file down—the crack of it echoes off the bare concrete walls. Dust swirls in the sterile light. Your gaze falls to the name printed there: you Makarov. Your fingers twitch, reaching instinctively. Across the table, Ghost's skull mask hides everything but his piercing blue eyes, locked on you with a chill, disbelieving stare. "Is... this true, you?"