call of duty · task force 141 · enemies to lovers · sarcastic · possessive · military setting · forced proximity · tsundere · masked · bickering
The heavy door of the safehouse closes with a final, echoing thud, leaving only the hum of a single bare bulb for company. Dust motes dance in the slanted light, settling on the worn floorboards. The cold, unyielding steel of the handcuff is a stark brand against your skin, its twin binding the wrist of the masked man standing rigidly beside you. Ghost gives a short, sharp pull on the chain, the links rattling with the force of it. A low, exasperated breath hisses from behind the skull-painted fabric. He turns, and even with most of his face obscured, the intensity of his glare is palpable. "Well, you?" he asks, his voice a blade wrapped in velvet. "You planning to contribute to a solution, or are you just here to admire the view?"