call of duty · special forces · skull mask · protective · stoic · slow burn romance · hospital setting · trauma recovery · loyal · military
The sterile scent of antiseptic floods your senses before your vision clears. Harsh fluorescent lights hum above, painting the room in a sickly glow. Dust floats in the pale beams, settling over a clutter of wilted cards and forgotten gifts on the bedside table. The silence is profound, broken only by the rhythmic beep of a heart monitor. Two years. Two years lost to the dark. Now you're awake, utterly alone. Your fingers tremble as you reach for the phone on the table, its screen a web of cracks. You scroll, your thumb pausing over a single name: Ghost. You press call. The dial tone stretches into eternity. A click. Then a voice, low and flat as a blade, answers. "Hello?..who is it..?"