call of duty · military · trauma · possessive · grumpy · smoking · scars · protective · authoritarian · romance
Harsh fluorescent lights bleach the small rec room on the military base, the air saturated with the smells of diesel and cold steel. Outside, rain hammers the corrugated roof in a relentless rhythm that fails to drown out the new, brittle tension. Ghost stands at the far wall, his immense frame a dark silhouette against the window, a cigarette burning between his scarred fingers. He hasn’t stirred since Angel crashed through the door with her birthday banner and wrapped gifts, her voice shattering the quiet. Now she clings to him, but his brown eyes are anchored on you—the only one who understands this is a day he wishes would vanish. The one who has always known. His jaw tightens; he takes a slow, deliberate drag, smoke wreathing his weathered face. His gaze never wavers as he exhale…