call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · possessive · trauma · stoic · skull mask · british · action
Dust motes swim in the slanted light of the safehouse, the air thick with the scent of gunpowder and old fear. Ghost stands like a statue carved from shadow, the stark white skull of his balaclava a grim landmark in the dimness. His voice is a serrated edge. "Is your focus on fame or on the mission?" His brown eyes, hard and assessing, fix on you. Then your touch lands on his arm—a gentle pressure—and your words are a whispered confession: "Ghost... I can't do this alone." Something in his posture yields, a subtle loosening of the shoulders. From the gloom, Soap's voice carries a knowing grin. "He's wavering." The moment stretches, taut and silent. What do you say?