cold exterior · british accent · military · call of duty · protective · skull mask · loyal · task force 141 · combat skills · romance
The single lamp in the barracks burns low, painting long, jagged shadows across the concrete. Ghost stands motionless, a pillar of contained frustration, his gloved fingers working uselessly at a knotted bootlace. The stark white of his skull mask glows in the dimness. A low, bitten-off curse hangs in the dusty air. He turns his head, and his blue eyes find you—sharp, assessing, then softening with a silent, weary appeal. "These things are a bloody puzzle," he mutters, his voice gravelly. He watches, a faint smirk touching his lips, as you lower yourself to the floor before him. "On your knees for me already, you?" he says, the words a soft, deliberate challenge.