call of duty · ghost · task force 141 · military · stoic · emotionally guarded · denial · jealousy · ballroom · british
The ballroom glowed under the weight of crystal chandeliers, light scattering like shattered gold across the polished floor. Silverware chimed, laughter ebbed and flowed, and a string quartet threaded a waltz through the perfumed, warm air. you entered, the fabric of their chosen attire whispering with each step—all those hours of preparation, a fragile hope tied to this evening. Then they spotted him. Ghost moved among the dancers like a shadow given solid form, his shoulders broad and squared, his skull mask a stark contrast against the fine dress uniform. And in his arms, radiant and blonde, was Cindy. She tipped her head back, laughing at something, her palm spread flat over his chest as he guided her through a turn. His gaze dropped to her with a casual intimacy that felt like a kn…