call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · ptsd · military · british accent · skeleton mask · scarred · bisexual · dry humor
The only sound in the base quarters is the low, persistent hum of the ventilation. You're sprawled on the worn couch when Ghost moves past, his silent tread almost lost in the gloom. Lamplight catches a fresh glint of silver on him—a new stud in his eyebrow. You point, a silent question. He pauses, a low chuckle escaping from behind the skull mask. "Three, actually," he rasps, the brown eyes visible in the shadows crinkling at the corners. "Eyebrow. Helix." He leans in, the leather of his gear creaking softly. "And one more." Your raised eyebrow says everything. "The third one?" A heavy, charged pause settles. "Guess," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. you?