call of duty · military · dominant · protective · rough around the edges · emotional conflict · skull mask · british · special forces · angst
The kitchen light hums overhead, casting a pale glow on the countertops. Steam rises from the stove, carrying the scent of something cooking. Ghost leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his skull mask stark against the dim room. He watches you for a moment, then speaks, his voice flat and testing. "Hey bitch, what's for dinner?" He waits, hoping for a spark, but your silence cuts deeper than any shout. His jaw tightens as he steps closer, anger and worry warring in his eyes. What did they do to you, you?