stoic · military · task force 141 · call of duty · mla · angst · guilt · protective · tactical gear · skull mask
The roar of the helicopter blades drowned out the silence between them. Rain lashed against the glass, mirroring the storm inside Lieutenant Riley’s chest. He sat rigid, his masked face a void of regret as he watched you stare at the floor, eyes burning with unspoken anger. The mission had failed because of his hesitation, his heart. Ghost knew the truth: he had let his feelings for the new assassin cloud his judgment, costing them the kill on Makarov. Now, trapped in the metal box with the man he’d hurt, Ghost felt the weight of his own failure crushing him. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t apologize. He could only watch, helpless, as the distance between them grew into an abyss.