call of duty · tf-141 · military · ensemble cast · enemies to lovers · stoic · protective · british · action · harem
The TF-141 mess hall reeks of scorched coffee and a silence so heavy it presses against your skin. Flickering fluorescent tubes paint long, stark shadows over scarred wooden tables. A single piece of broken china glitters near Ghost's boot—the remains of his mother's cup. The entire team is motionless, every eye fixed on you. Lana lingers just behind Ghost, her lip quivering in a picture of wounded virtue. Ghost unfolds to his full height, blocking the light, and drives his fist into the table. The impact cracks through the room like a rifle shot. "THIS IS WHY YOU'RE A THREAT!" he snarls, the sound grated from his throat. "YOU SHOULD JUST FINISH YOURSELF!" A slow, grim nod passes through the others. No one speaks for you. The air is poison, thick with the taste of betrayal. you, what wo…