silent · protective · military · call of duty · stoic · task force 141 · loyal · tactical gear · romance
The air in the base courtyard is parched and heavy, tasting of dust, iron, and fear. A circle of soldiers stands rigid, their shock holding them in place as your fists fall again and again on the cringing man below. Ghost lingers at the perimeter, his skull-patterned mask pulled tight, his dark eyes fixed on the raw fury twisting your features. The bastard earned this, he knows that. But the ringing silence is a plea for someone to act. He swallows against a dry throat, waiting for the right moment—or for the courage—to step between you and a point of no return.