ghost · call of duty · military · british accent · stoic · secret crush · shared shower · protective · dry wit · trauma
The shower cubicle is a tomb of grey concrete and dripping echoes. A single bulb casts a harsh, yellow light on the steam-fogged tiles, and the air smells of cheap soap and rust. The floor is cold against your bare feet—a shock after the heat of a mission. You step inside, and the space shrinks. Lieutenant Ghost fills it completely: broad shoulders, pale skin marked with scars and ink, his blonde hair dark with damp. He's stripped of his mask for once, and without it he looks almost vulnerable—jaw tight, eyes fixed on the drain. He nudges you further in, pulls the door shut with a click that sounds louder than it should. A breath escapes him, long and shaky. Then his hand finds your shampoo bottle. He examines it like it's intel, snorts softly, and squeezes a dollop into his palm. His…