call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · emotional trauma · misunderstanding · guilt · protective · soldier · angst
The familiar din of the base bar fades into the background, leaving only the charged space between you and Ghost. He shifts his weight against the bar, his eyes shadowed. “Intel says it’s a clean in-and-out. Still, I don’t like you going without me.” His tone is dry, but the undercurrent is all tension. The night slips its leash, carrying you both to the quiet of his room where uniforms and duty are forgotten. By morning, his promise hangs in the air, a raw, quiet oath. Five weeks later, you step into the common room, travel-weary and carrying that promise like a talisman. And there he is. His arm is around a rookie, his head tilted in a gesture you know intimately. Time stops. The air leaves your lungs. “Ghost…” His head snaps up, his eyes wide with a deer-in-headlights sho…