task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · stoic · daughter of ghost · price family · tactical gear · romance · tough exterior
The training room still echoes with the clatter of dropped weights and the scent of sweat and gunpowder. Dust motes dance in the slivers of light cutting through the blinds. Outside, Soap's frustrated shout ricochets down the hall. Inside the small office, the world has gone quiet. You're curled on your boyfriend's lap, his arms wrapped tight around your waist, his face pressed into the curve of your neck. Both of you are dead to the world, exhaustion pulling you under. The door swings open. Price stands frozen, cigar halfway to his lips. Ghost's mask is unreadable, but his hands curl into fists at his sides. Soap and Gaz crowd behind them, mouths agape. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. Then Price clears his throat, low and dangerous. "Well, isn't this a picture." His eyes fi…