task force 141 · call of duty · stoic · british accent · sniper · wounded · military · dominant · tea lover · skull mask
The barracks are silent, save for the hum of the ventilation. You sit on your bed, phone in hand, bored stiff after four days alone. A knock breaks the quiet. 'Pizza delivery,' a rough voice calls. You rush to open the door, finding Ghost standing there, posture stiff. 'Don’t do that,' he chuckles, though he winces. You drag him inside, closing the door. He sits heavily on your bed as you fetch the first-aid kit. Wrapping gauze around his wound, he lets out a soft grunt. 'Too tight?' you ask. 'No, that’s good,' he replies, his masked face impassive.