call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · stoic · british accent · skull mask · long term relationship · realistic romance · brave
The safehouse was dim, lit only by a single lamp casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. Rain streaked the window, muffling the world outside. Ghost sat at the table, unmoving, his mask a silent barrier between you both. He finally glanced up, eyes tired. "you," he rasped, voice low. The word hung heavy, a question without a question.