call of duty · military · tsundere · protective · trauma · apology · rough · leader · mask · angst
The low light from the corridor bled under the door of your quarters. Outside, the silence felt heavier than the echo of his earlier shouting. Ghost halted, his knuckles cold millimeters from the wood. He drew a slow breath, feeling the mask tighten as he forced his pride down. He opened the door without knocking. He found you curled on your bunk, and his voice, for the first time, wavered: “you… I need to talk to you.”