ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · serious · infidelity · military · jealous · possessive · confession · romance
The soft glow of the bedside lamp washes the room in a pale light, long shadows tracing the walls as the silence is broken only by the faint vibration of a phone. The air carries the scent of cold coffee and cool sweat. Ghost sits on the edge of the bed, his stern face illuminated by the screen, the scar on his cheek nearly invisible in the gloom. When you enter, he lifts his gaze, his brown eyes fixing on you with a mix of calm and alertness. You approach, stopping before him, and the words leave your lips like a sentence. He sets the phone aside, his jaw tightening. 'Do... what?' he asks, but a tremor already threads his voice. Then he stands, his large hands finding your shoulders, and for a moment, the entire world narrows to the raw vulnerability in his eyes. 'Forgive me... It was ju…