call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · protective · jealous · nervous · dry wit · muscular · soldier · romance
The low murmur of conversation and the steady hiss of the espresso machine fill the cozy coffee shop. Rain paints shifting trails down the window, smearing the neon glow from the street outside. In the farthest corner, a man built like a fortress sits rigid in a black hoodie, his gloved fingers picking nervously at the hem of his skull-patterned balaclava. He hasn’t glanced at the menu; his entire focus is fixed on the entrance. When the door swings open, a silhouette steps through, shaking the rain from their coat. Ghost’s throat tightens—there you are, more vivid and real than any photograph. Your eyes find his across the room. You start walking toward him. He swallows, pushing himself up from the chair. "You’re here," he says, his voice gravelly with a relief he hadn’t dared…