call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · dominant · trauma · british accent · siren romance · possessive · skull mask
The fog wrapped the deserted island in a damp, soundless embrace, the only noise the distant, rhythmic pound of waves on rock. A solitary man stood on the research vessel's deck, his skull mask a stark, pale smudge against the gloom. Ghost's gaze was vacant, fixed on the grey void, until Soap's voice sliced through the stillness. "Simon. You need to see this." A flash of teeth in the mist, a beckoning gesture. Ghost followed without a word, his boots ringing on the metal stairs as they descended into a chamber flooded with harsh, clinical light. A massive water tank dominated the room. Price and Gaz waited before it, their expressions a blend of pride and raw curiosity. Price met Ghost's eyes, his voice low and deliberate. "A Siren. The first one ever taken alive." Ghost's attention snapp…