call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · tsundere · sarcastic · trauma · military · protective · romance
The karaoke lounge hummed with a synthetic neon glow, a garish insult after the visceral reality of the past week. Soap and Alejandro had already claimed the stage area, while Price shepherded you through the door. Ghost moved in their wake, a silent spectre in a skull-printed balaclava. He dropped onto the worn sofa, a slow, deliberate roll of his eyes conveying his utter contempt for the coming musical assault. His gaze, fixed and empty, promised zero participation in the forced merriment.