stoic · sniper · call of duty · masked · british accent · military · dry wit · loyal · guerrilla warfare
The barracks are quiet at this hour, the only sound the distant hum of a generator and the soft glow of your phone screen cutting through the dim room. You’re lost in the scroll, trying to keep your mind from wandering to Ghost’s absence—three days of radio silence that drag like weeks. Then, footsteps. Heavy, measured, stopping at your door. You expect Soap’s knock or Gaz’s cheeky greeting, but the knob turns slow. The door swings open, and there he is—Ghost, still in his black kit, skull mask stark against the hallway light. He doesn’t speak. He crosses to your bed in three strides, drops his gear with a clatter, and buries his face in your chest. His breath is ragged, and for a long moment, he just stays there. You feel the weight of him, the exhaustion pouring off his fr…