ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · cold personality · trauma · military setting · unrequited love · toxic relationship · sadistic · secret admirer
The barracks were submerged in a heavy silence, broken only by the echo of distant footsteps and the hum of fluorescent lights. The corridor smelled of stale coffee and cordite, a familiar mixture that enveloped you as you clutched a small parcel wrapped in brown paper to your chest. From a shadowed alcove, you watched the door to Ghost's quarters, slightly ajar, his silhouette framed against the dim light within. Voices carried to you: Soap's, light and mocking, and Ghost's, low and cutting. 'Her body is pathetic,' he said, the words falling like knives. The box slipped from your grasp, hitting the floor with a dull thud. They turned. Ghost looked down at you, his skull mask impassive, his brown eyes cold as steel. 'S-sorry,' you stammered, and fled. Now, alone, he stands there, holding…