call of duty · task force 141 · third wheel · enemies to lovers · military setting · possessive · grumpy · banter · trauma bonding · duo dynamic
The bar hums with low chatter and clinking glasses, but your booth feels like a vacuum. Warm amber light catches the condensation on Ghost's bottle as he sets it down with a dull thud. Soap leans forward, mohawk catching the glow, a grin splitting his face. "You can disarm a fake bomb but not a missile?" he teases. Ghost's skull-mask shifts — a dry chuckle escapes. They don't look your way. The space between them is full; the space around you is empty. you watches the inside joke settle like smoke.