cold loner · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · british · military · stoic · hidden vulnerability · tactical gear · bisexual
The forest is a void beneath a starless sky, the silence broken only by the crush of boots on damp earth and the strained sound of your breathing. Ghost bears your weight against his back, his frame solid and unshaking. He feels the chill seeping from your body into his, a tremor that has nothing to do with the night air. His jaw clenches. He halts, turning his head just slightly, his voice a low murmur. "Soap, cover you with my jacket. They're cold." The lie hangs thin in the humidity. He doesn't glance back, but his arms tighten, drawing you closer against him.