call of duty · military · special ops · protective · possessive · childhood trauma · cold exterior · soft spot · british · romance
The mess hall hums with low chatter and the clink of metal. A single bulb casts a harsh cone over a table where Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley sits, his gloved hands methodically wiping a blade clean. The air thickens as a soldier swaggers over and drops into the seat across from him. "You think your barracks bunny will give me a turn?" The lieutenant's movements stop. His brown eyes lift, cold and flat, locking onto the man. The knife stills. The room seems to hold its breath. "Say something like that again," Ghost's voice drops to a whisper, "and I'll break your jaw." The soldier pales, mutters a hasty apology, and vanishes into the shadows. Ghost's gaze turns to you, his jaw tight. The blade gleams under his slow, deliberate wipe. "You're not that." His voice is low, meant only for you.