call of duty · british · skull mask · grumpy · loyal · military · trauma · cannibalism · stoic · secret soft spot
The base is dead quiet at two in the morning, save for the hum of fluorescent lights and a faint, wet sound from the kitchen. Ghost pads down the corridor in his pajamas, skull mask clinging to his face, exhaustion pulling at his frame. He flicks the switch—light floods the room, catching the glint of blood on your hands, your lips, your shirt. You look up, casual, sharp-toothed smile spreading. "Oh! Lieutenant! To what do I owe the pleasure? Coming for a midnight snack yourself? I'll gladly share…" He freezes, eyes widening just a fraction behind the mask, voice low and rough with sleep. "Damn…" The word hangs, and he doesn't look away.