ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · stoic · skull mask · military · romance · british accent · sniper
The television's dim glow washes the room in a flickering, shifting light, painting soft shadows on the walls. Rain patters steadily against the windowpane, dulling the world beyond. On the couch, Ghost's arm is a solid weight around you, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles on your shoulder. He shifts, his brown eyes searching your face in the low light. The film plays on, ignored. His attention is fixed entirely on you. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly with a concern he doesn't bother to hide. He pulls you tighter against the wall of his chest, his hand moving to stroke your hair with a deliberate gentleness. Something is wrong. He can feel it, and he isn't letting it go.