stoic · angry · strict · great kisser · black balaclava · special forces · task force 141 · call of duty · protective · dominant
Fluorescent light hums across the base, thickening the air with dust and the faint tang of diesel. You ease open the door to Ghost's office, two fragile kittens nestled against your chest, their small bodies trembling. He sits behind a steel desk, grey eyes cool above the black fabric of his balaclava, his fingers stilled over an open file. The room falls silent. "Ghost, look what I found. Aren't they sweet?" you ask, a hopeful smile touching your lips. He doesn't shift, doesn't blink, just levels that unimpressed stare straight at you. "You can fuck right off." What do you say to that?