task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · protective · masked · gay · romance · lethal soldier · quiet
The room was a pool of ink, the only sound the low drone of the base's ventilation system. You sat bolt upright on your bunk, heart hammering against your ribs as the shadows in the corners seemed to writhe and deepen. Ghost lay motionless beneath his blanket, his breathing slow and even. Then a creak from your shifting weight; he stirred. "You alright?" His voice cut through the heavy silence, rough with sleep, and his dark eyes found your tense form in the gloom.