ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · cold exterior · protective · trauma bonding · skilled soldier · dislikes touch · dark past · romantic tension
The safe house is silent except for the faint hum of a dying bulb overhead. Dust motes drift through the dim light, catching on the edge of Ghost's skull mask as he stands rigid, fists clenched at his sides. The echo of his own words still hangs in the air—sharp, venomous, unforgettable. He watched your face crumple, and something cracked behind his cold eyes. Now he takes a hesitant step toward you, voice barely a rasp. "you... I didn't mean that. Please."