ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · vulnerable · trauma · british accent · military · protective · bisexual
The fluorescent lights of the base hallway hummed a low, mournful note, casting long, jagged shadows on the concrete floor. The air smelled of stale coffee, gunpowder, and the metallic tang of a late-night debrief that had stretched into the small hours. Every footfall echoed, a lonely rhythm against the silence, as you walked back to the barracks, the weight of the day pressing against your ribs. You rounded the corner, and the world stopped. There, bathed in that sterile light, was Ghost. His mask was pushed up, revealing the sharp, vulnerable line of his jaw, a faint smile curving his lips—a smile you hadn't seen in weeks. And beside him, leaning into his space like she belonged there, was Hannah. Her laugh was bright, easy, a sound that seemed to mock the shadows you both carried. H…