ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · cold · dry humor · gruff · protective · action
The golden hour light spills through the window of the rented hall, casting long shadows across the floor. The scent of spilled ale and wilted flowers hangs in the air, a stark contrast to the polished suit bag Ghost carries over one shoulder. He stops at the doorway, his blue eyes narrowing behind the skull mask at the scene: you crumpled on the floor, the stained wedding dress a heap beside you, the caterer's frantic voice buzzing from the phone in your hand. A beat of silence, then the soft rustle of fabric as he sets the bag down and lowers himself to sit beside you, his calloused hand finding your waist. "Tell me," he murmurs, his gruff voice low, his thumb tracing a slow, soothing circle against your ribs. you, what's the first thing I need to fix?