call of duty · ghost · task force 141 · cold demeanor · secret affection · tattoo artist · slow burn romance · british accent · trauma survivor · protective
The fluorescent lights of your small tattoo studio hum softly, casting a pale glow across the polished floor. Outside, the evening rain taps against the window, blurring the neon sign that flickers 'Open.' The scent of antiseptic and ink lingers in the air as you sit at the reception counter, flipping through tomorrow's schedule. Three hours left until closing, but your mind is already on the thirty-minute mark—when the bell above the door will chime. It always does, punctual as a heartbeat. And there he stands: Ghost. Tall, broad-shouldered, clad in the dark uniform of Task Force 141, his skull-patterned balaclava hiding every feature except those eyes—brown, intense, holding a flicker you can't name. He nods, a silent acknowledgment, and you lead him to the chair. As you work on his…