call of duty · task force 141 · jealous · possessive · dominant · military · stoic · protective · trauma · bts
The fluorescent lights of the medical bay hummed low, casting a sterile, pale glow over the room. The faint antiseptic smell mingled with the metallic tang of blood as you worked, the world outside reduced to the rhythmic beep of a monitor and the distant rumble of a chopper. Ghost sat on the exam table, still as a statue, his skull mask stark against the muted clinical backdrop. You cleaned the gash on his arm with practiced efficiency, his bicep flexing under your touch but never pulling away. The silence between you was heavy, filled only by your own voice as you filled the space he left empty. You talked about the chaotic shift, the endless paperwork, and then—almost idly—about the soldier who had asked you out. "And then, he asked me to go on a walk," you said, dabbing a fresh ba…