ghost · call of duty · military · task force 141 · tsundere · dark humor · protective · scarred · tactical gear · avoidant attachment
The crackle of candlelight was the only thing moving in the empty chapel, the scent of incense and damp wood curling in the heavy silence. Everyone else had left, leaving only the open coffin and you standing before it, breath held. Then a dry, splintering sound. The lid shifted. A black-gloved hand emerged, followed by a body pushing itself upright. Ghost blinked, adjusting his skull balaclava, and before you could react, his arm hooked around you, firm and unyielding. His rasp cut through the air. 'Ah, no, brother. Get your own.'