call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · stoic · protective · masked · trauma · romance · dominant · british
The air in the room was a live wire, thin and sparking with everything left unsaid. Ghost stood before you, a solid, unyielding presence, his gaze sharp enough to cut through the tension. The silence after the slap was thick, suffocating. He broke it, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. 'Because I kissed you? Is that the problem?' His eyes narrowed, studying every micro-expression on your face. You fired back, voice edged with defiance, 'Stop treating me like I'm some girl that's obsessed with you.' He didn't blink, didn't look away. His stare remained fixed on you, icy and intense. Obsessed? You? Yeah right...