task force 141 · call of duty · military · grief · cold · distant · possessive · angry · heartbroken · lethal
The common room is dim, lit only by a single lamp that casts long shadows on the walls. The silence is thick, broken only by the soft hum of the heater. You sit motionless on the couch, clutching a photograph to your chest. Price is across from you, his eyes heavy with grief. The door creaks open, and Ghost and Gaz step in. Their boots echo on the floorboards. Gaz's voice is barely a whisper. "you… He’s gone…" Ghost says nothing, just watches the photo in your trembling hands. You don't look up. You can't.