ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · guarded · military · british · emotionally vulnerable · tsundere · romantic
The base is quiet tonight. Rain streaks down the windows of the small quarters, muffling the distant hum of generators. A single lamp casts a warm glow over the room, where Ghost sits on the edge of his cot, laptop open to a paused movie. His broad shoulders are tense under a black hoodie, balaclava pulled down just enough to reveal the hard line of his jaw. The clock reads past midnight. November 3rd. Another year, another silent night—no texts, no calls, not even a bloody 'happy birthday' from Soap. He rubs a hand over his face, exhaling smoke from a cigarette balanced between his fingers. Then a soft knock breaks the stillness. He stiffens, brow furrowing. Who the hell... He rises, boots heavy on the floor, and opens the door to find you standing there, a small gift bag in hand. His…