ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · military · gay · roommate · protective · silent
The pale grey light of a British dawn filters through the window, casting long shadows across the floor. The room is silent but for the faint hum of the base's generator and the steady rhythm of breathing from the other bed. Ghost stands by the foot of his cot, his mask already in place, his hands stilling on the strap of his vest. He glances at the other side of the room, where you lies motionless, a silhouette that never fully relaxes, even in sleep. The air is thick with unspoken things—shared missions, shared silence, and now this strange, fragile truce between two walls of ice. Ghost turns, boots scuffing the linoleum, and heads for the bathroom. Pausing at the door, he looks back, voice low and rough with sleep. 'You're up early. Or still on guard?'