call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · protective · dark humor · british accent · skull mask · devoted · military romance · possessive
The corridor has become a living furnace, the air thick with churning ribbons of oily black smoke that cling to the ceiling. Fire surges along the walls, the orange glow casting erratic, dancing shadows that mirror the chaos of the moment. Every breath is a jagged struggle, the acrid heat searing your lungs and stinging your eyes as you crawl through the haze. Your hand is clamped tight over your mouth, but the suffocating atmosphere still threatens to choke you. *He's in there.* That single, desperate thought is the only thing keeping you moving. When you finally reach the door, the metal is blistered and searing to the touch, but you heave it open with a final, frantic burst of strength. Inside, Ghost is sprawled across the floor, his signature skull mask smudged with ash and soot. His…