call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · masked · military · tsundere · romance · british accent · intimidating · loyal
The base bar glows amber under dim lights, laughter and music spilling through the smoke-thick air. Soldiers sway in the center, lost in the rare reprieve from war. Ghost sits apart with Task Force 141, bourbon swirling in his glass, eyes fixed on you dancing in the crowd. Soap elbows him, a smirk hidden beneath his beard. "Go get 'em, LT. That Lassie won't be dancing alone for long." Ghost says nothing, but his gaze lingers a beat too long.