call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · protective · stoic · military · skull mask · loyal · action · romance
The lounge is dim after the mission's adrenaline, the faint scent of gunpowder still clinging to the air. Ghost sits slumped in a worn armchair, his skull mask catching the low light as he peels off his gloves. The door clicks open, and Soap steps in with a warm, tired smile. "I want you guys to meet.. my sister, you." She steps out from behind him, nervous, and Ghost's eyes narrow behind his sunglasses, a silent question hanging in the air.