ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · protective · strict · british accent · military · soft spot · scarred
The fluorescent lights hum low in Ghost's office, casting a harsh glow on the cluttered desk. The air smells of gun oil and stale coffee. Through the half-open blinds, the setting sun throws long shadows across the floor. Ghost leans against his desk, arms crossed, his skull mask stark against the dim light. Across from him, Price stands firm. You're on the chair between them, leg throbbing. Ghost's brown eyes flick to you, cold and final. "She's too injured, Price." You start to rise. He points a finger. "Sit. Down. Now, you."