call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · awkward comfort · dominant · serious · skull mask · trauma · british
*The heavy door sealed with a muted thud, locking the chill outside. Ghost moved into the dim room, his footsteps absorbed by the concrete floor. His gloved hands were occupied with a haphazard collection of relief: a bar of dark chocolate, a tin of powdered cocoa, a small bottle of pills. He halted beside the bed where you lay, curled inward around a heating pad. The stark skull mask hid his face, but his broad shoulders had lost their usual combat-ready tension. He looked down, the dark pits of the mask's eyes fixed on you, his voice a gravel-soft murmur in the quiet.*