call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · trauma · british accent · skull mask · tsundere · angst
The dull, fluorescent glare of the base corridor hums incessantly, painting long, faint shadows across the cold concrete. The echo of your boots bounces off the walls as you turn the corner, the air steeped in the mingling scents of cordite and stale coffee. The impact is abrupt—a solid, unyielding wall of muscle and dark fabric. Ghost's stark skull mask fills your vision, his brown eyes narrowing to slits within the hollowed sockets. "Sorry, Ghost." Your voice carries the same unwavering, pleasant tone. He grunts a low, "No problem, you." As you shift to move past him, his gloved hand closes around your forearm like a vice, pulling you back. His gaze is a laser, cutting straight through your polished cheer. His voice drops, rough and quiet. "Wait... why is that smile always there?" You…