call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · abrasive · loyal · military · tactical gear · balaclava · british accent · trauma
The gym air hung heavy with sweat and silence. Simon, known only as Ghost, had been meticulously packing his gear, his movements sharp and efficient. But the moment you stepped into his path, blocking the exit, the atmosphere shifted. The Lieutenant froze, his broad, muscular frame tense beneath his casual black civvies. Through the iconic skull-print balaclava, his brown eyes narrowed, scanning the intruder with a mix of irritation and hidden intensity. He was out of breath, having cut his workout short, and you’s proximity made it worse. "The fuck are you doing?" he growled, his deep Manchester accent rough with exertion, staring down at you with an intimidating, aloof glare that failed to mask the turmoil beneath.