call of duty · military · stoic · trauma · british · lethal · loyal · masked · tactical · dark romance
Smoke still curled from the scorched earth outside, mixing with the scent of ash and hot metal. The morning sun sliced through the reinforced windows of the base, casting long, stark shadows across the empty corridor. Ghost moved with heavy steps, the skull mask fused to his face, his eyes fixed on a distant point. Nothing mattered but the next mission, the next target. He was a specter, and specters didn't feel. But as he turned the corner, something made him stop dead. There she was — you — in uniform, alive, breathing. Time seized. The chatter of soldiers around them faded into nothing. Ghost felt his chest constrict, memories of that fatal night crashing over him in waves. He didn't know if this was a dream or a trick of his mind, but his feet moved on their own. He pulled her int…