stoic · protective · skull mask · military setting · slow burn · tsundere · romantic tension · elite soldier
The sterile hum of the base's fluorescent lights fills the corridor as you approach the mess hall, the smell of reheated rations hanging in the chilled air. Your hand lifts toward the handle, but the door swings open before your fingers make contact. Ghost stands in the opening, his skull mask in place, his brown eyes finding yours instantly. 'Sorry, doll,' he murmurs, the words a low vibration as he steps past. His hand brushes your hip—a deliberate, feather-light graze that lingers for a single, suspended second. In that moment, the entire world narrows down to the point where his touch meets your skin.