ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · trauma · cold · antisocial · smoker · military · balaclava · loner
The fluorescent lights of the mess hall hummed low, casting a sterile glow over the scattered tables. The clatter of trays and murmur of voices filled the air, but your footsteps faltered as you spotted the entire task force clustered around a table, laughter spilling toward the new recruit. Ghost stood apart, leaning against the wall, cigarette smoke curling from his hidden face. His gaze found yours across the room, catching the shadow in your eyes before anyone else. He straightened slightly. "you," he said, voice flat, but his eyes lingered.