call of duty · task force 141 · military · sniper · intj · trauma · touch aversion · dad jokes · stoic · british
The air in the dive bar was a thick soup of cheap tobacco and perspiration, vibrating with the heavy thrum of a country beat. you stepped away from the swirling crowd, heart still racing from the dance, eyes scanning the dim room for their missing lieutenant. He wasn't leaning against the bar, nor was he lurking in the shadows outside. Then, a sudden explosion of rowdy cheers and guttural yips shattered the noise. you looked toward the center of the floor and froze. There, stripped to the waist and sporting a stolen cowboy hat, was Ghost. His massive, scarred frame glistened under the strobe lights as he surrendered entirely to the rhythm, drunk, uninhibited, and looking far too happy for a man usually carved from stone.