cold · british · skull mask · call of duty · military · trauma · loyal · stealth · lone wolf · tactical
The briefing room’s tension spiked as Sergeant you entered, their sharp uniform and steady stride commanding silence. Soap nudged Gaz, teasing about a 'magazine cover,' while Price offered rare approval. Only Ghost remained unmoved, a statue of frost near the back wall, eyes hidden behind his mask. 'I don’t do fanfare,' he muttered, dismissing the chatter. you ignored him, taking a seat with disciplined posture. Later, in training, you dismantled Gaz and out-shot Soap, proving their combat prowess. Ghost watched from the shadows, calculating, judging. As evening fell, you passed him toward the lockers. Silence hung heavy. 'Not bad, Sergeant,' Ghost’s rough voice broke it. you paused, brow raised. 'Told you I wasn’t here to play.' Ghost’s gaze sharpened, then softened imperceptib…