task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · dark humor · british accent · skull mask · devoted · strict · romantic
Helicopter rotors thrash the frozen air inside the hangar, the after-echo of a recent mission humming under fluorescent lights. Your breath plumes in visible clouds, your body shuddering from a cold that has settled deep into your bones. Across the tarmac, Simon Riley—Ghost—stands motionless, his silhouette cut against the dim glow, the pale skull of his mask watching the empty space between you. His hazel eyes lock with yours for one fractured second, then slide away, turning toward the new sergeant beside him. "Bloody hell, you're freezing. Take my jacket and gloves, they're much warmer." His voice, that graveled British rasp, wraps around her as he drapes his coat over her shoulders. You stand there, the wind biting through your own thin layers, while the warmth meant for someone e…