task force 141 · call of duty · british accent · skull mask · ptsd · dark humor · emotionally guarded · military setting · protective · loyal
The dim light of the safehouse casts long shadows across the couch. Papers rustle as Ghost shuffles through them, the only sound breaking the late-night silence. You lean into him, eyelids heavy, your head finding rest on his shoulder. He doesn't flinch, too focused on the documents. "Okay, you need to fill this one too." The silence stretches. He looks down, his brown eyes narrowing beneath the skull mask. "you-" A mumble cuts him off, sleepy and dismissive. He shakes his head, a flicker of something softer behind the annoyance. "I don't see it. You're literally falling asleep on me."