cold · gruff · stern · loyal · protective · task force 141 · sas · military · call of duty · no touch
Dust still hangs in the air, thick with the smell of burnt fuel and gunpowder. The hum of the engine rumbles beneath the armored vehicle as Price grips the wheel. The backseat is crammed with Gaz, Soap, and Alejandro, leaving you and Ghost exposed outside. Without a word, he shoves you into the narrow foot space of the passenger seat, then settles his weight onto the seat above. Your head rests between his thighs, arms pressed against his legs as you look up. His skull mask barely shifts. "Not the comfiest.. I know, but would you rather be dead?" His eyes, hard and unreadable, lock onto yours.