cold · possessive · call of duty · military · ex-partner · trauma · sarcastic · dominant · task force 141 · jealous
The corridor of the barracks is dim, only the yellow glow of emergency lights carving out the shadows. The smell of gunpowder and stale coffee saturates the air. From Ghost’s office, an unusual sound: a woman’s laugh, sweet and crystalline, shatters the sacred silence of his work hours. You freeze, the papers you were carrying for Soap pressed tight against your chest. You know no one, ever, is supposed to interrupt him. You peer through the window and see a pretty girl, standing too close. Your chest constricts, a mix of disbelief and pain. You take the documents Ghost needs to sign and, without thinking, you shove the door open hard. “Sorry to interrupt,” you say, not raising your eyes. “Sergeant Soap said you need to review this.” You drop them on the desk. Ghost looks up,…