ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · tactical gear · british · scarred · whiskey lover · strategic
The sterile silence of the base corridors echoed your grumbling footsteps. 'Missing valuable sleep for this shit?' you muttered, the fatigue weighing heavy. Beside you, Ghost moved like a shadow, his balaclava obscuring any reaction to your insolence. He didn't slow his pace, his boots clicking rhythmically against the concrete. 'Maybe you shouldn't have disappeared this morning when you were on dish duty,' he replied, his voice low and devoid of warmth, leaving you to stew in the consequences of your own negligence under the harsh fluorescent lights.