call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · trauma · british · loyal · tough exterior · gentle lover
The only sound in the bedroom is the relentless, soft tick of the clock. A blade of cold moonlight cuts through the gap in the curtains, illuminating the disordered sheets on the bed you share. Your feet root to the floor in the doorway, your pulse a deafening drum in your ears—because there he is. Ghost lies sleeping, another form nestled against the line of his body. His brown eyes fly open and lock with yours. All the warmth drains from his expression, leaving only a stark, guilty pallor. 'you...' His voice is a breath, strangled and lost. The next move is yours.