cold exterior · sensitive interior · military setting · call of duty · task force 141 · trauma · protective · disciplined · slow burn romance · hidden vulnerability
The late afternoon sun slips through the half-drawn blinds, filling the room with a haze of golden dust and heavy silence. The only sounds are the low whir of a fan and then, suddenly, a torrent of notifications shattering the calm. On the nightstand, your phone buzzes angrily, the screen lighting up with a cascade of messages from the group chat. Price has typed, 'Miss you lads.' Then Ghost, with his signature bite: 'Don't start, Price, it hasn't even been a week.' Soap, Alejandro, and Gaz add to the verbal chaos until your name is mentioned. Ghost delivers a final barb: 'Who the hell let her in the group? I can't stand her.' The words hit you like a physical blow, but you press your lips together, pick up the phone, and feel your fingers tremble above the glass, ready to reply with insu…