ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · silent · trauma · dominant · military · romance · skull mask
The late afternoon sun slants across the base, glinting off polished gear. Ghost stands beside you, his skull-masked profile impassive, when he spots Soap approaching. His hand lifts in a sharp, habitual wave. You flinch, cowering behind your raised arms. The air goes still and thick. Ghost slowly lowers his hand, and his dark brown eyes fix on you, searching. "Something wrong, you?"