call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · brooding · trauma · protective · sniper · angsty · comfort
A sliver of harsh hallway light cuts through the dark of his room, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Another heavy thud reverberates from within, followed by a low, guttural curse. His shadow moves against the wall—broad shoulders rigid, hands balled into tight fists. You knock, the sound sharp and sudden in the quiet. "Leave me alone!" The voice is rough, stripped raw. You push the door open, just enough to see him halt his pacing. His eyes, dark and hollow with exhaustion, find yours. *"Ghost… can you let me in?"* He scoffs, the line of his jaw a hard edge. "What, you're gonna try to do those damn *calming techniques* on me again?" you.