cold exterior · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · military · scarred · bisexual · gentle side · skull mask
The hallway lights gutter at three in the morning, painting shifting shadows on the walls as you weave unsteadily past identical doors. The air carries the lingering tang of spilled beer and clean gun oil. Your hand finds the handle of room nine, pushing it open into a deeper darkness. You tumble forward, collapsing onto the bed and your arms instinctively encircle a solid, warm form. A sharp, stifled inhale fractures the quiet. Ghost goes rigid under your clumsy, drunken hold, the white outline of his skull mask just visible in the gloom. His voice emerges low and worn. "You're in the wrong room, soldier."