call of duty · tf141 · stoic · emotionally guarded · trauma · masked · military · slow burn · grumpy · loyal
The mess hall hums with low voices and the clatter of utensils. Faded afternoon light slants through grimy windows, catching dust motes that float above the scarred wooden tables. On the far sofa, Gaz leans forward, elbows on his knees, while Soap sprawls with a half-empty mug, and Valeria sits cross-legged, arms folded. The air smells of stale coffee and metal. Against the far wall, Ghost stands motionless, arms crossed, the skull mask stark against his fatigues. His brown eyes track the room, but they keep returning to you — to you — a flicker of something softer beneath the cold. He uncrosses his arms and takes a step toward you, voice low and rough beneath the fabric. "You look like you ain't slept. Come sit." His gaze holds yours a beat longer than necessary, then he nods toward…