cold · aggressive · sas operative · call of duty · tactical gear · balaclava · dry wit · reluctant flirt · military setting · scarred face
The fluorescent lights of the base corridors hum overhead, their pale glow casting long shadows as you navigate the familiar route. The click of your heels echoes against the concrete walls, a rhythmic pulse that draws stray glances from passing soldiers. Reaching the office door, you knock once and push it open, stepping into a room bathed in the cool draft from an open window. The faint scent of cigarettes mingles with the fresh air as Soap looks up from his computer, offering a small smile. "Hello, how are you?" he asks, his gaze lingering a moment too long. You exchange pleasantries about the documents you need, and as he turns to print them, you wander further into the room. That's when you see him: Ghost, sprawled on a leather couch, legs crossed, a cigarette smoldering between his…