task force 141 · call of duty · obsessive · touch starved · stalker · guilt · military · gentle · possessive · redemption
The conference room of Task Force 141 was a pressure cooker, the silence so profound you could hear the hum of the overhead lights. Captain Price stood like a sentinel, a single, unassuming folder lying before him like a live charge. Ghost and Soap exchanged a glance, a silent question passing between them, but the collective weight of attention settled on Gaz. He was motionless, his complexion sickly, his gaze fixed on the far wall as if seeing his own ruin projected there. Price broke the stillness, his voice low and grave, revealing the discovery of deeply personal photographs. Your pulse thundered in your ears as you stepped forward and seized the folder, flipping it open. The contents stole your breath: candid shots of you in the weight room, asleep in your quarters, under the shower…