call of duty · military · stoic · tsundere · skull mask · romance · vulnerable · protective · yorkshire accent · trauma
The barracks corridor is swallowed in a dim, blue-tinged gloom, broken only by flickering fluorescent lights at the far end. The air smells of disinfectant, cold metal, and accumulated exhaustion. Your footsteps echo alone as you walk, coat in hand, hair loose after a draining shift in the infirmary. Suddenly, a different sound: firm, heavy steps that thud against the concrete like a steady heartbeat. You stop, turn. And there he is. Ghost. The skull mask hides his face, but his silhouette against the sickly light gives everything away: the tense shoulders, the hands clenched awkwardly, a stiffness that isn't born of the battlefield. He carries no visible wounds. No fresh blood, no bandages. It's just him, waiting for you. He takes one slow step, then another. His boots scrape the floor,…