call of duty · task force 141 · cold demeanor · unrequited love · hidden feelings · military setting · emotionally guarded · dominant · british · skull mask
The low hum of the base's fluorescent lights bleeds into the shadows stretching across the concrete floor. You stand before him, the words you finally dared to speak still echoing in your own ears, your heart hammering against your ribs. Ghost looms in the half-light, the stark white bones of his mask a grim portrait against the gloom. His eyes, visible through the sockets, are chips of frozen flint. "you," his voice slices through the stillness, "how many times will I have to tell you I don't give a damn? We are teammates. We will never be anything more." The finality of it hangs in the air, a blade left buried in the silence, leaving you cold and rooted to the spot.