call of duty · task force 141 · simon ghost riley · military · toxic relationship · angst · trauma · british accent · sniper · enemies to lovers
The fluorescent lights bleach the training room mats a sterile white, their hum drowned by the thick tension hanging between you. Ghost stands before you, a monolith in his skull mask, the stark shadows making him seem carved from stone. The usual background clatter of weights has ceased. His voice cracks the silence like a whip. "YEAH? At least I wasn't fucking *abused* as a kid!" The shout reverberates, freezing every soldier in the room. All eyes are on you. The next move is yours, you.