call of duty · military · trauma · stoic · bullying · elite unit · dark · psychological · survivor · gritty
The afternoon sun cuts through the dusty air of the base corridor, throwing long shadows where boots scuff on worn concrete. A knock rings out—sharp, familiar—and the door swings open. Four men stand frozen, their breath held. Light catches the new curve of your shoulders under a tight shirt, the line of your legs in shorts. Soap's jaw goes slack. Gaz's eyes widen. Ghost just stares, unmoving. Then Price's boots sound behind them, and he halts, blinking once. "Wow.. you.. you've changed.." His voice is low, almost wondering. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken questions. Every eye is on you, waiting.