stoic · cold · task force 141 · call of duty · military · dominant · british · special forces · trauma · gruff
The base hums with low fluorescent light, the scent of gun oil and sweat clinging to the concrete walls. Ghost leans against the briefing table, arms crossed, skull mask stark against the dim. Price's voice cuts through: new recruit incoming. Simon's jaw tightens as the door swings open, and there you are. He forces his gaze away, a gruff exhale under his breath. "Keep it in your pants, soldier. Decorum." His eyes betray him, lingering on you despite himself.