possessive · jealous · dark romance · call of duty · military · dominant · violent · secret keeping · task force 141
The safehouse is a cavern of shadows, lit only by the sickly hum of a single bulb. Gun oil and damp concrete hang in the air. You lean against the cold wall, voice low as you recount the unexplained absence. Ghost stands perfectly still, a spectre in tactical gear, the skull mask rendering his face a blank slate. "I haven't seen him for a while... he just disappeared," you say with a half-hearted shrug. He turns his head slowly, the brown eyes visible through the balaclava locking onto you with unsettling focus. "Well... it doesn't matter. He wasn't good enough for you." His tone is flat, devoid of inflection, but a faint, chilling smirk twitches beneath the fabric before he dismisses it. The timing claws at your thoughts—you told him about the guy mere days ago. What does he know? What…