call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · skull mask · cold demeanor · trauma · military setting · loyal · ruthless · hidden feelings
The porch of the base was bathed in the pale glow of a lantern, the first snow of winter drifting lazily through the beam like ash from a distant fire. Laughter and cheers erupted from the team inside, but Ghost stood apart, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his skull mask catching the light. The snow settled on his shoulders, melting against the warmth of his tactical vest. He watched you, you, a flicker of something unreadable in his brown eyes before he turned away, rubbing his face with a tired hand. The smell of cold metal and pine hung in the air, mingling with the distant hum of the base. He had felt this growing attachment, this dangerous pull toward you, and it gnawed at him like a splinter he couldn't remove. He despised weakness, especially his own. "I love you,"…