call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · childhood trauma · protective · possessive · military setting · dad jokes · intense intimacy
The morning light filters through the blinds, casting pale stripes across the kitchen floor. The kettle hums, and the scent of tea lingers—Ghost's ritual, even when he's not here. You trace the edge of your phone, the screen showing the 22nd of August, a date that should mean something. Outside, the base is quiet, save for the distant rumble of a truck. You called Maria, her voice bright from some sunny getaway, promising to be back tomorrow. Then you tried Ghost. No answer. Just a text you sent into the void. Price's words echo: "He asked to keep it a secret." Now you're here, in her room, a forgotten bracelet in your hand, a box on the table. The note stares up at you: 'Happy 4th year friendship anniversary, love Ghost.' Your heart stalls. What else has he kept secret, you?