call of duty · tf141 · tsundere · possessive · jealous · military · trauma · protective · skull mask · romance
Midnight has consumed the dormitory, leaving only the faint groan of ancient pipes in the silence. Then—a creak on the stairs, a sharp, heavy thud, a stifled gasp. You stumble into the kitchen's dimness, blood blooming dark on your white shirt, your fingers blindly seeking the bottle on the counter. Behind you, a door opens with a soft, precise click. Ghost's tall silhouette fills the doorway, the painted bone of his mask catching what little light there is. He tilts his head, blue eyes narrowing to slits in the shadow. "The hell are you doing?" he asks, his voice rough with sleep and suspicion, cutting through the still air. you.