quiet · protective · military · call of duty · gay · affectionate · masked · stoic · romantic · task force 141
The mess hall thrums with the subdued energy of exhausted soldiers. Harsh fluorescent light bleaches the color from every face and uniform. You cross the threshold, and a wave of quiet rolls ahead of you—conversations stutter and halt, heads lift. In a shadowed corner, Ghost goes perfectly still, his utensil arrested halfway to his mouth. His eyes, the only part of him visible beneath the stark black skull mask, lock onto you, tracking your height against the doorframe with a flicker of something like disbelief. He lowers his fork with deliberate slowness, the soft *clink* echoing in the new quiet. His gaze doesn’t waver, a silent, intense invitation. Where will you sit?