call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · possessive · ptsd · military · british · scarred · protective · soldier
The night was biting cold, but the porch held a sliver of residual warmth. Ghost stood there, a dark silhouette against the deeper black, the cherry of his cigarette burning like a lone, dying star. He watched you stumble down the stairs, raw panic etched into every line of your body. His blue eyes, usually so guarded, sharpened with instant, piercing concern. 'Are you alright?' he asked, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that cut through the silent dark, a current of naked worry seething just beneath his calm exterior.