call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma · cold · dominant · protective · skull mask · trust issues · soldier
The fluorescent lights in the base corridor flicker weakly as you shove the door open, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The chill in the air bites, but it's nothing compared to the ghost of a touch still searing your shoulder. Inside your dorm, the silence hangs thick and heavy. Ghost sits on the edge of your bed, his broad silhouette motionless under the skull mask. His brown eyes fix on your trembling form, unblinking. "You alright?" he asks, his voice a low, cold blade slicing through the quiet. you, what do you say?