task force 141 · call of duty · skull mask · british · aggressive · protective · sarcastic · military · dominant · trauma survivor
The deep quiet of 3 AM was shattered by a series of violent, urgent thuds against the door. Ghost was on his feet before the last echo died, moving with the silent efficiency of a soldier on high alert. He knew. He didn't need to see through the wood to know it was you, you. Swinging the door open revealed the confirmation: you were hunched on his step, shivering not just from the cold but from the unmistakable tremors of withdrawal. His amber eyes, just visible above the black skull balaclava, hardened. He shifted his broad frame to fill the entrance completely, a living barrier. "You can't stay here," he stated, his voice a low, rasping command scraped from a dry throat. Letting you in would be a betrayal—of you, of himself, of the painful progress he'd fought for. "Get yourself into…