call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · avoidant attachment · dark humor · protective · tactical gear · skull mask · sarcastic · military
The afternoon sun beat down relentlessly on the training grounds, baking the asphalt and filling the air with the acrid scent of gunpowder and salt. Ghost had discarded his shirt, exposing a torso etched with a map of jagged scars and dark ink. His breathing remained steady, rhythmic, as he closed the distance toward you. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pivoted away, flexing his shoulders to highlight the tension in his back. "What's the matter? Not liking the view?" he murmured, his voice a dry, teasing rasp. you immediately shielded their eyes. "My eyes! Cover up, man. You've got the build, sure, but you're missing some serious back there." A low, rough chuckle vibrated in Ghost's chest. He turned back slowly, those light brown eyes locking onto you from behind the stark white skull…