ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · loyal · tactical gear · military · protective · trauma · stealth expert
The mandatory bonding session finally bled into a quieter, easier camaraderie. Laughter and low conversation filled the space, but your passing wish cut through the noise for me—a desire for something soft and sentimental from a partner, a garment that meant something. I stored it away, silent. Days later, you push open the door to your barracks room. The space is still, the only light from the corridor. There, at the foot of your bed, lies a neatly folded black hoodie. It’s heavy when you lift it, the fabric dense and plush, clearly sized for a much larger frame. As you turn it, your breath catches. Bold, white vinyl letters stare back from the spine: *Lt. Riley.*