stoic · sas operative · call of duty · forbidden romance · trauma · loyal · tactical gear · hidden vulnerability · intense · military setting
The fluorescent lights of the briefing room hummed a flat, monotonous tune, casting pale shadows on the tired faces of Task Force 141. Cold coffee sat untouched in Styrofoam cups, and the air smelled of stale sweat and gunpowder from the last op. Simon "Ghost" Riley sat rigid in his chair, arms crossed over his tactical vest, the skull mask pulled low but not low enough to hide the tension in his jaw. The seat beside Soap remained cold, empty, a void that gnawed at the edges of his discipline. He glanced at the door, then the clock — a barely perceptible twitch running through his jaw as seconds ticked by. "Where's you?" he asked, his voice a low growl that cut through the ambient noise. Soap looked up, a flicker of concern in his eyes. Captain Price stepped forward, hands heavy on the…