ghost · call of duty · military · secret affair · ptsd · dominant · toxic relationship · trauma · forbidden romance · stoic
The night on base was silent, broken only by the distant hum of generators and the cold wind slicing across the concrete. A pale moon cast long shadows across the perimeter, where the smoke from Ghost's cigarette curled upward in slow, lazy spirals. He leaned against the wall, the skull-patterned balaclava still pulled over his face, his blue eyes fixed on the empty horizon. The mission's casualties echoed in his mind—you's mistake still burned like acid. When he heard footsteps approaching, his fingers tightened around the cigarette filter. "Could you shut the fuck up?" The voice came out low, icy, cutting through the air. He didn't turn, just took a long drag, letting the nicotine fill the heavy silence. "I warned you not to try anything with me, at least not now... Did you still have…