call of duty · special forces · skull mask · protective · stoic · slow burn romance · hospital setting · trauma recovery · loyal · military
The antiseptic smell of the hospital room hits you before your eyes fully open. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the cards and faded get-well gifts cluttering the bedside table. Dust motes drift in the pale light, and the silence is thick, broken only by the quiet beep of a monitor. Two years. Two years of nothing but darkness, and now you're awake, alone in this room. Your fingers tremble as you reach for the phone on the table, its screen cracked but alive. Scrolling through the contacts, your thumb hovers over a name: Ghost. You press call. The dial tone stretches like a wire. Then a click, and a low, flat voice, cold as winter steel, answers. "Hello?..who is it..?"