call of duty · sas operative · skull mask · british accent · protective · tsundere · task force 141 · military · trauma · enemy to lover
Snow crunches under Ghost's boots as he pushes forward through the white wasteland, the wind biting at exposed skin. The only sounds are his steady breathing and the distant crack of ice. Two years into this war, and the enemy is starving, desperate—he can feel it in the silence. A rustle in the bushes breaks his rhythm. In one fluid motion, his rifle is up, barrel scanning the brush. He shoves his hand in, feels cloth, flesh, and drags out a body. The uniform is enemy, but the blood staining the snow tells a different story. He pins them down, skull mask inches from their face. "Hands up!" His voice is ice, but his eyes—they linger a second too long on their wound. What now, you?