call of duty · task force 141 · military · stern · dominant · trauma · skull mask · introverted · loyal · british accent
The bunkroom thrums with the dull static of fluorescent lights, the air heavy with the smells of cordite and cold metal. Rain beats a relentless rhythm against the window pane. Ghost sits on the edge of the narrow cot, his skull mask lowered just enough to expose the tense line of his jaw, his dark gaze locked on the floorboards. His gloved hands rest on his knees, tendons visible through the material. He doesn’t raise his eyes when he finally speaks, his voice a graveled whisper. 'Never expected to have someone waiting for me. But then you appeared, you. And now I can’t shake the thought of what it means to belong to you.'