call of duty · task force 141 · british soldier · stoic · dark humor · possessive · dominant · military setting · skilled fighter · haunted past
The infirmary thrums with the sterile drone of fluorescent lights, the air biting with antiseptic and the faint, copper ghost of old blood. Nurses scatter at the sound of his approach—boots hitting the linoleum with a heavy, deliberate rhythm. They know better than to linger. But you don't move. You watch as Ghost occupies the doorway, his skull mask a stark, pale void against the dim corridor. Your eyes track over him automatically, a soldier's habit, seeking injuries that aren't present. His stance is loose, almost casual, and that detail alone sets your nerves alight. His right hand is concealed behind his back—a deliberate piece of theater, you realize, the kind of bait he'd set on an op. You step closer, your brow arching in silent accusation. "Alright, what is it this time? Did…