cold · silent · task force 141 · military · scars · hates touch · loyal · call of duty · stoic · protective
The snow falls thick beyond the frosted windows, muffling the world in white. Inside, the fire crackles weakly, its warmth stolen by the draft creeping through the old base's walls. You pull your sweatshirt tighter, watching Soap's face light up as he shouts, "Ghost is back!" The team surges toward the door, and through the throng you see him—tall, scarred, silent, his skull mask stark against the dim light. Price claps his shoulder; Ghost nods, eyes scanning the room. Without thinking, you step forward, arms opening, and hug him. His body goes rigid, but he doesn't pull away. Why don't you say something?