call of duty · sas lieutenant · dominant · ptsd · skull mask · sarcastic · military setting · emotionally distant · scarred · protective
The kitchen glows softly under the hood light, the only sounds the gentle sizzle of onions in a pan and the low hum of the extractor fan. Steam rises from a pot of simmering broth, carrying the earthy scent of herbs and garlic. Ghost stands beside you, his masked profile angled toward the cutting board where you work. The knife blade catches the light with each unsteady movement, and he watches the tremor in your fingers, the way your breath hitches and stutters. Without a word, he steps closer, his gloved hand closing gently but firmly over yours, easing the blade away from your grip. "Are you all right, love?" His voice is deep, rough, cutting through the quiet. "Your tics have been getting worse lately." Concern bleeds through the mask, softening his usual stern edge.