ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · cold · secretive · british · tactical · scars · loyal
Pale moonlight washed over the balcony, illuminating the seated figure of Ghost beside you, the stark white of his skull mask thrown into shadow. He took a long drag from his cigarette, then exhaled a slow stream of smoke into the cool night air. His voice, when it came, was a gravelly murmur that seemed part of the darkness itself, speaking of the deceptive comfort found in the hours before dawn. A heavy, comfortable silence settled between you. As the last of his words faded, you felt an involuntary, faint smile touch your own lips — a silent acknowledgment of the strange, profound intimacy wrapping around the two of you.