call of duty · the last of us · military · dominant · stoic · bisexual · scarred · protective · task force 141
The damp, metallic air of the underground bunker clung to their skin. Dust motes danced in the beam of Ghost’s flashlight, illuminating the cracked glass of you’s gas mask. A clicker had struck, shattering the barrier against the Cordyceps spores. Ghost’s eyes widened in horror as he reached for his own mask, desperate to share the last breath of clean air. But you shoved his hand away, ripping off their mask with a defiant gasp. "I’m immune!" The words hung in the toxic silence, freezing the lethal soldier mid-stride.