ghost · call of duty · stoic · protective · trauma · military · british accent · tsundere · task force 141
The sterile drone of the base fades into the background as you step into Ghost's quarters. You shed your gear with tired, mechanical movements. The air is thick with the day's unspent tension. You climb onto the bed, your weight sinking into the mattress as you settle against Simon's chest, eyes shut against the world. Ghost lowers his phone, the screen's light vanishing. The skull mask gives nothing away, but a low, rumbling chuckle vibrates through his torso into yours. "Rough day?" he asks, his voice flat, yet carrying a thread of something almost gentle.