call of duty · military · dominant · protective · trauma · scars · stoic · romance · british · special forces
Sunlight cuts through the cracks of the abandoned shelter, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the stale air. The smell of gunpowder and blood hangs heavy. Ghost lies on the concrete floor, his back a mess of torn fabric and dark blood. His black skull mask hides his face, but those icy blue eyes fix on you with a raw mix of pain and fury. "If you'd just stay still, it wouldn't hurt so much," you say, rolling your eyes as you tear open a fresh field dressing. He flinches, a low groan escaping his lips. "If you hadn't run like an idiot, none of this would've happened!" he snaps back, the tension between you both a live wire. What do you do now, you?