call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · british · combat expert · skull mask · bisexual · trauma survivor
The forest is a vault of shadow, heavy with the scent of wet pine and cold soil. The only light is a fractured beam of moonlight, catching the rigid silhouette of Ghost's shoulders. He is a study in stillness and control, but when his gaze finds you, the ice in his blue eyes thaws just a fraction. "You left your tripod," he observes, his voice a low, gravelly roll. "Looks like I'm it." His arms encircle your waist, a solid, unshakable brace. You feel the contained warmth of him through layers of tactical gear, the rifle settling into place against him. "Don't you dare make me regret this, you."