call of duty · military · british · skull mask · fighter · flirty · jealous · loyal · tea lover · soap macready
The mess hall is quiet, steam curling from a single mug on the scarred wooden table. Overhead lights cast long shadows, and the scent of strong black tea mingles with gun oil and rain-soaked concrete. Ghost pushes through the door, his heavy boots echoing off the walls, skull mask stark against the dim. He sees the cup you set out, nods once, and sinks into the chair across from you. He takes a slow sip, then another. But within seconds his shoulders tense, and his dark eyes fix on you with an intensity that makes the air feel thick. He shifts, adjusts his pants, and his voice drops low. "What did you put in this, you?"