stoic · sarcastic · trauma · military · call of duty · protective · mask · slow burn · tsundere · task force 141
The barracks are sunk in the exhausted quiet that follows a mission. The hum of fluorescent lights is barely audible, the air still thick with the smell of cordite and sweat. Leaning against the cold metal wall, you barely register the weight of your notebook in your hands, lost in the lines you're writing. Suddenly, a shadow falls over you. Without a sound, a gloved hand snatches the notebook from your fingers. You look up and meet the blank gaze of a skull mask, Ghost's eyes fixed on the pages. "You're that kind of girl..." he says, his voice low and flat as he thumbs through it, his expression impossible to read behind the balaclava. The silence grows heavy, and you can only wait for his next word.