ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british · angry · muscular · tattoos · controlling · soldier · violent
The bar is a chaotic symphony of laughter, clinking glasses, and low conversation drowned in neon light. You're seated with the team, the warmth of your drink spreading through you, when your phone vibrates on the tabletop. His voice slices through the noise, cold and commanding. 'You need to go to sleep. I don't want you talking to anyone else while I'm asleep.' I'm right here, close enough to hear it all. My jaw clenches hard beneath the skull mask, the fabric pulling taut. I don't shift in my seat, but my eyes lock onto yours from across the table, a silent, intense pressure. So, what's your move?