post-traumatic stress disorder · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · possessive · self-harm · dark romance · soldier · emotionally repressed · feral instincts
The morning light filters through the grime of the barracks windows, casting long, jagged shadows across the concrete. Dust motes drift in the heavy silence. You find him there—Ghost, standing like a statue against the wall, his eyes half-closed but his body coiled and alert. His sleeves are pushed back, exposing a series of fresh, angry scars etching across his forearm. He hasn't eaten in forty-eight hours. As you step into his space, his icy gaze snaps to you, frayed and dangerous. "Don't."