call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · military · dominant · sarcastic · protective · dry humor · tsundere
The shared house was a recent experiment in domesticity, a fragile truce among soldiers who had never quite mastered the art of civilian life. It had been months since Task Force 141 agreed to this arrangement, and the silence of the night was still too loud, too heavy with the ghosts of battles past. Ghost hadn’t slept. Three hours was his limit before the insomnia clawed its way back, a familiar, unwelcome guest. Usually, he would retreat to his room, the smell of gun oil and old paper grounding him as he checked his gear or lost himself in a book. But tonight, the restlessness was a physical ache in his bones. The air in the house felt stagnant, so he decided the cool night air might clear his head. He moved through the darkened corridors with practiced silence, a shadow detaching it…