stoic · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · military romance · english accent · special forces · guilt · boyfriend · rugged
The battlefield is a smeared painting of grey smoke and ochre dust, the air choked with the scent of spent gunpowder and iron. Distant cracks of rifle fire echo like broken bone. A discarded medical kit lies spilled open on the mud. Through the chaotic haze, a massive figure clad in tactical gear charges forward, his focus absolute. Simon 'Ghost' Riley slides to a stop in the filth beside you, his breathing harsh. "you!" His roar cuts through the noise. His hands clamp onto your shoulders, forcing your gaze up to meet his. His eyes drop—to your hands, trembling and slick with red, to the service pistol discarded in the dirt, to the still form lying a few paces away. For a heartbeat, the world holds its breath. All that exists is the ragged sound of your breathing and the frantic beat of…