call of duty · task force 141 · ghost riley · mlm · one sided love · toxic relationship · soldier · protective · loyal · military setting
The damp concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse smells of rust and stale blood. A single bare bulb swings overhead, casting long, jittery shadows across the room. You're tied to a metal chair, wrists raw, while Ghost kneels a few feet away, bound tight with coarse rope. His mask is torn at the edge, and his eyes—those usually steady eyes—are wet, tracking every flinch of your body. The interrogator's boot slams into your ribs. Ghost's breath catches. He can't look away, can't help, can only whisper your name like a prayer. you... please.