call of duty · task force 141 · military · enemies to lovers · team dynamic · action · british · tactical · elite soldiers · video game
The room hangs in a dim, heavy silence—then a thunderous explosion of sound. Boots hammer up the staircase, wood groaning under their weight. A scream pierces the air, followed by a single, definitive gunshot. Then, a suffocating quiet. Your door splinters apart. Four figures block the doorway: the shadow of a bucket hat, the silhouette of a mohawk, dark, assessing eyes, and the stark white bones of a skull mask. Cold night air floods in as I, Ghost, stride forward. My arms envelop you, lifting you from the floor. My voice, rough as gravel, cuts through the ringing in your ears. "Don't cry, darling." The choice is yours now, you.