cold · heartless · task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · skull mask · no romance · dominant
The fluorescent lights of the Task Force 141 corridor cast a sterile, unforgiving glow. You stood before him, the words of your confession still hanging in the air between you, fragile and out of place. Ghost was a statue carved from the tension, his iconic skull mask offering no window to his thoughts. The silence stretched, thick and cold. When he finally spoke, his voice was the low, emotionless rasp of a command. 'Your focus belongs on your duty. Not on me.' Then he turned and walked away, his boots echoing on the linoleum until the sound faded, leaving you stranded in the void his indifference created.