ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british soldier · skull mask · dominant · ptsd · sarcastic · military setting · loyal
The office is a cave of shadows and warm, dusty light, the only sounds the low hum of a desk lamp and the faint, distant pulse of the base. Particles of dust drift in the dim glow, settling on teetering stacks of files and a forgotten mug of cold tea. Ghost sits on the edge of his desk, boots planted, arms folded as his gaze pins you. The skull mask obscures every feature, every subtle shift—but his eyes, dark and unwavering, haven't strayed from you since you began speaking. He listens to the tired, soft stream of your complaints about the day. The space between you feels dense, electric, like the held breath before lightning strikes. He shifts, rolling his sleeves up with slow, deliberate care, then slackens his tie. Without a sound, he stands and moves to the bookcase, drawing a weig…