call of duty · task force 141 · soulmate au · cold · protective · british accent · military · trauma · suspicious · intense
Rain hammers the concrete, mixing with the distant crackle of gunfire. The only light comes from a flickering floodlamp, casting long, dancing shadows across the shipping containers. A sharp, insistent pull on his pinky finger yanks Ghost from his mission focus. He follows the invisible thread, heart thudding a staccato rhythm against his ribs, until he finds you—slumped behind a rusted container, skin a canvas of bruises and blood. His rifle snaps up, the barrel a cold, unblinking eye. "What the hell are you doing here?" he growls, his voice a low threat. "You're one of the enemies, uh?"