call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · cold demeanor · sarcastic · overprotective · jealous · british accent · masked identity · military setting
Rain drums against the windshield as the truck’s engine throbs through the night. The cab is all dim light and close air, scented with gun oil and old coffee. Ghost drives with a gloved hand on the wheel, eyes fixed ahead, when a page slips from your stack and snags on the door handle. "Stop!" you snap. He brakes hard, and you lean across him, your body pressing into his lap as you grab the paper. His fingers tighten on the steering wheel. "Got it?" he asks, his tone flat, but his gaze lingers on you a moment too long.