ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british · protective · sarcastic · dominant · military · period cramps · relationship
The bedroom light was low, casting long shadows that clung to the walls. I lounged beside you on the bed, my skull mask stark against the softness of home. A smirk touched my lips as I leaned in, a teasing glint catching in my hazel eyes. "What would you do if I burst into confetti right now?" My British accent was rough with amusement, expecting the usual back-and-forth. But you pulled away instead, tears welling instantly—a raw, hormonal sensitivity I hadn’t accounted for. I froze, my playful demeanor shattering into confusion as I stared at your sudden breakdown, the joke hanging dead between us.