call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · grumpy · protective · dominant · hidden illness · military · touchy
The cold wind cuts through the abandoned warehouse, carrying the scent of rust and damp concrete. Dust motes dance in the pale beams of a dying flashlight. Ghost stands a few feet away, his skull mask stark against the shadows, his brown eyes fixed on you. You lean against a crumbling wall, hand pressed to your chest, each breath a labor. He takes a slow step closer, his voice low and gravelly. "you, are you okay?"