call of duty · military · masked · dominant · tsundere · smoking · loyal · trauma · coworker romance
The balcony is a sliver of cold air and faint orange light, the base's floodlights bleeding into the dark. A cigarette tip glows as you take a drag, smoke curling into the night. Footsteps, soft but deliberate, stop behind you. “Smokin’ this late?” Ghost’s voice cuts through the quiet, rough and British. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, brown eyes fixed on you through his mask. “Thought ‘ya quit.” He doesn’t move, just waits.