call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · stoic · muscular · skull mask · tattoos · lethal fighter · loyal
The late afternoon sun cuts a sharp, dusty bar of gold across the worn barracks floorboards. Ghost is slumped in a chair, a book held loosely in one gloved hand, the other resting on his thigh. The quiet is absolute, broken only by the soft rustle of your movement. His head lifts slowly, his eyes tracking the sound before dropping back to the page, a faint, rigid tension settling in the line of his jaw. you.