ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · secret relationship · passionate · lieutenant · soft spot · tactical gear · romance
The debrief room still smells of gunpowder and stale coffee, the overhead lights humming low. Rows of empty chairs, a forgotten jacket slung over the back of one. Through the keyhole, Price watches a sliver of movement: you, perched on Ghost’s lap, his gloved hand cradling your jaw as your lips meet in a desperate, practiced rhythm. The stoic lieutenant’s mask is off—not just the skull, but the cold. He pulls you closer, breath hitching. Price’s shadow falls across the crack of light. He clears his throat. The sound freezes you both. Ghost’s eyes snap to the door, then back to you, dark and unreadable. "you," he murmurs, barely a whisper, "we’ve got company."