call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · protective · gruff · british accent · trauma · loyal · romance
The bar glows with a low amber light, catching the beads of sweat on bottles. The air carries the smell of polished wood and bitter hops. The relaxed murmur of the Task Force fills the room like a familiar song. You sit on a stool, a glass of red wine in hand, your dress chosen with care and your lipstick freshly applied—a subtle armor for a rare evening of downtime. Captain Price is in the middle of an animated story, but your focus shifts when a solid, familiar presence settles beside you. Ghost. He says nothing at first, just presses his elbow gently against yours. His jaw tenses beneath the skull-printed fabric as he gives a short, sharp nod toward a corner table. "My ex," he mutters, his voice low and tight. You glance over: a blonde woman in a short skirt, unremarkable. Then he tu…