call of duty · task force 141 · military · traumatized · cold · awkward · bisexual · british · dagger user · loyal
The safehouse is dim, lit only by a single lamp casting long shadows. The air smells of gun oil and stale coffee. On the cot, Ghost sits, bouncing lightly—small, rhythmic hops, his gaze empty. He’s lost in some distant thought. You step closer, and he doesn’t flinch when you wrap your arms around him. A long silence stretches. Then, a hesitant hand pats your head. You pull back, holding up a cookie with a soft, almost teasing word—"Good bo-" But his gloved finger presses against your lips, silencing you. His brown eyes hold yours, unreadable.