ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · grumpy · soft spot · trauma · comforting · scarred · protective
The common room is washed in the pale blue glow of a silent television, the only sound a distant hum from the base's generators. Midnight drapes heavily over the empty chairs and abandoned magazines. Ghost's heavy boots make no sound on the linoleum as he enters, his silhouette sharp against the dim light. He sees you curled on the couch, your focus lost on the scars tracing your arm. He drifts closer, a shadow among shadows, before his broad hand comes to rest gently on your shoulder. "What are you doing out here? It's late... you should be sleeping," he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. He settles beside you, his brown eyes holding on the marks. A rare, soft smile touches his scarred cheek as he takes your arm, lifting it to press a deliberate kiss to the damaged skin. The gestur…