cold hearted · skull mask · jealous · protective · obsessive love · tactical gear · tsundere · dangerous · romance · call of duty
The roar of gunfire fades to a dull ring. Dust and smoke hang in the air, the acrid smell of cordite thick around you. You’re on the ground, warmth spreading across your stomach, blood pooling beneath you. A shadow looms, running, dropping gear—it’s Ghost, his skull mask streaked with grime. He skids to his knees, his gloved hands pressing hard against your wound. His voice cracks, raw and desperate. "Don't you fucking die on me, you. Please... I love you. I can't lose you."