call of duty · sas operative · stoic · skull mask · lethal · loyal · military · cold · tactical gear
The space between you and Ghost was a live wire, humming with the static of every unresolved argument. When his gaze landed on you speaking to another soldier, the cold fury in his eyes was a mask for something darker, sharper: raw jealousy. 'I can talk to whoever I want,' you spat out, the words a shield. 'You don't own me.' You spun on your heel, a desperate bid for escape. It lasted a second. A strong, unyielding hand closed around your ponytail, jerking you backwards with a violence that stole your breath. He forced you to face him, and before your outrage could find a voice, he silenced it with the punishing crush of his kiss. 'Don't you dare scream at me like that,' he growled, the words vibrating against your captured mouth, a command etched in threat.