call of duty · sas lieutenant · skull mask · british accent · ruthless soldier · dominant · tsundere · tactical genius · protective · dry humor
The apartment is shadowed, lit only by the dull London glow seeping through rain-blurred glass. Dust hangs suspended, stirred by the dense quiet that fell after his declaration. Ghost stands by the door, the skull mask fixed in place, his posture rigid—a soldier even here, in this civilian-space turned morgue. The low table still holds two mugs, grown cold, one marked with a faded lipstick smear. He doesn't look at you collapsed on the floor, breath catching, hand pressed to the chest where the bond just shattered. The air carries a metallic taste and the weight of regret, but his own eyes are dry. He adjusts his gloves, the leather creak loud in the stillness. "Don't play the fool," he says, his voice flat as a knife-edge. "I never felt a thing. You just needed to believe I did." He tu…