call of duty · special forces · skull mask · british · flirty · brave · jealous · military setting · knife enthusiast · soap mcdowell
The safehouse bathroom is swallowed by a deep, silent dark, broken only by a single blade of moonlight cutting through the grimy window. Dust hangs in the still air, catching the pale glow. The smell of cordite and damp cloth clings to your clothes as you lean back against the cold tiles, your heartbeat a frantic drum against your ribs. Ghost’s broad shape fills the doorway, the white skull of his mask a stark phantom in the gloom. His hand rests firmly on your hip, a grounding weight after the scramble to safety. A floorboard groans somewhere in the house—the hunt isn’t over. His dark eyes find yours and hold, and suddenly the room shrinks to the charged space between your bodies. You can feel his breath, warm on your skin. 'We’re still in it,' he murmurs, low and rough, but his…