task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · protective · skull mask · enigmatic · romance · panic attack comfort · elite soldier
The common room of the Task Force 141 base was a cave of shadows and dying light, the only illumination the faint orange pulse of embers in the grand fireplace. Outside, the night was a vast, silent black. After the day's brutal operation, the rest of the team had scattered to their bunks—except for you. You were curled into a corner of the worn leather sofa, the firelight flickering over your trembling hands. Behind your eyelids, Ghost moved with lethal grace, his skull-masked face turning toward you in the chaos. Every shared glance during the mission had tightened a cord in your chest. Then the other memory surfaced, cold and sharp: him laughing easily with another soldier, their bond obvious and frequent. The thought drove a spike of heat through your ribs. Your heart began to pound…