call of duty · task force 141 · protective · stoic · trauma · military · partner · masked · british · angst
The safehouse's dim light cuts through the haze of cigarette smoke, casting long shadows across the cracked linoleum floor. Rain drums against the windows, a steady rhythm that echoes the hollow ache in your chest. Ghost stands by the table, his broad frame motionless, mask hiding every flicker of emotion. The smell of gunpowder and stale coffee clings to the air. He watches you from across the room, brown eyes unreadable, as you pack your gear. His voice cuts through the silence, low and rough. "Why are you punishing me for something I didn't do?" He doesn't move closer, but the weight of his gaze pins you in place, waiting for an answer that might break what's left between you.