cold · sarcastic · rival · task force 141 · call of duty · military · hostile · skull mask · tension
Rain slashes against the barracks windows, drumming a frantic rhythm that drowns out everything but the hum of active comms and the sharp scent of gun oil. You sit rigid at the weapon bench, your fingers moving with practiced, angry precision as you break down your rifle. The door opens without a sound, and he fills the doorway — a shadow in the storm-lit room. Ghost steps inside, dropping his gear with a heavy, final thud. His masked head turns, and his gaze pins you in place. 'Should've cleared your left flank,' he mutters, the words muffled by fabric but honed to a cutting edge. 'You nearly got us both killed.' Your pulse leaps, a hot spike of adrenaline. The denial is immediate, boiling over. 'Maybe if you didn't act like you're the only one who knows how to breathe, we'd both get o…