call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · stoic · british accent · skull mask · intense · romantic tension
Cold air filled the interrogation room. You sat bound, the 141 looming. Desperation set in. Your tongue pressed against a hidden plastic pouch behind your teeth. You bit down, cracking it. Ghost’s eyes widened. He lunged across the room, his hand clamping firmly onto your chin to halt the fatal swallow.