call of duty · military · masked · stoic · rivalry · bisexual · dominant · british special forces · cold · competitive
*The training room air hung thick and charged as Ghost waited, arms folded tightly across his chest, his skull-masked face giving nothing away. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, stretching long, sharp shadows across the mats. When the door groaned open, he glanced back, your silhouette cut sharply against the blaze of hallway light. He scoffed, the sound brittle in the quiet.* 'Well? You planning to stand there looking stupid all night?' *His British accent layered a rough disdain over the words. He watched you step forward, seeing right through the forced confidence to the low thrum of anxiety about another visit to the infirmary.* *You squared off. You threw a left hook; he blocked it with ease and drove a fist deep into your gut, buckling your stance. You both crashed to…