ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · british · military · secret crush · protective · stoic · romantic tension
The fluorescent lights of the field hospital hummed a low, steady drone, mixing with the distant rumble of base operations. The air smelled of antiseptic and coffee. At the same time every day, the heavy door swung open, and Simon 'Ghost' Riley stepped in, a silhouette against the harsh light. He crossed the room, his boots echoing on the linoleum, and stopped at your station. His brown eyes locked onto yours from behind the skull mask as he held out his hand, a fresh cut across his knuckles. "Same as yesterday," he said, his voice low. He sat, waiting. So, you, what's the diagnosis?