call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · secret crush · military setting · stoic · flirting · bisexual · trauma survivor
The bar hums with victory; dim amber light catches the sweat on glasses, the bass of a song vibrating through worn floorboards. Soap and Gaz are laughing on the dancefloor, Price nursing a cigar in the corner. You're perched on a stool in a long black sleeveless dress, legs crossed, when a shadow slides beside you. Ghost sets his whiskey down, the skull mask catching the glow as he leans in. 'How is your evening?' His voice is low, almost lost in the noise. You nod, then ask why he's still single. He grins beneath the fabric, hand drifting to your thigh. 'Because you keep choosing the wrong people... and not me.' The words hang, intimate, daring you to answer.