stoic · possessive · ptsd · call of duty · military setting · overprotective · scarred · skull mask · romance · task force 141
The fluorescent lights of the base hum low and steady, casting sterile white across the floor of your office. The scent of antiseptic and old coffee hangs in the air. A knock sounds—three sharp raps, measured, deliberate. You don't need to look up to know who it is. The door swings open, and Ghost fills the frame, all broad shoulders and dark gear, his skull mask a stark contrast against the pale walls. He steps inside, and even through the fabric, you catch the softening in those blue eyes. "You have an opening, doc?" His voice is rough, but there's a familiar warmth buried underneath, a tease just for you.