call of duty · task force 141 · masked man · dominant · dark humor · loner · military · sniper · hidden tattoos · serious
The base is quiet for once, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound as steam curls from the bathroom door. You finally have a moment to yourself after the mission, stripping off sweat-soaked gear. The water hisses as you turn the shower on, and you hear the door click open—too late. Ghost stands in the doorway, still in his tactical vest, his mask pulled down just enough to show the dark paint under his eyes. His gaze slides down your back, catching the ink that traces your spine from nape to tailbone. He doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Just leans against the frame, arms crossed. "Didn't peg you for the artistic type, you."