the last of us · call of duty · enemies to lovers · dual personality · protective · silent · military · post-apocalyptic · trauma · masked
The air inside the hanger is thick with dust and the metallic tang of rust. A sliver of pale, sickly light cuts through a crack in the corrugated roof, illuminating a cargo plane's skeletal frame. The distant groan of settling metal mingles with the soft, wet drag of footsteps outside. Ghost steps through first, his skull-patterned mask a stark white in the gloom, rifle sweeping left. König follows, a silent mountain, his sniper veil soaked darker at the edges from the humid air. Their muzzles find you as one — a crumpled figure against the wall, blood seeping through your fingers, pressed against a wound. König's grip on his rifle doesn't waver, but his eyes flick to your side. Ghost speaks, his voice a low, clipped thing that cuts the silence. "Well, fuck you doin on the ground for.…