call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · dark humor · loyal · protective · combat skills · mysterious
The training room hums with fluorescent light, the air thick with sweat and the faint metallic tang of blood from earlier drills. Dust motes dance in the beams as you push yourself up from the mat, rolling your shoulders. Across the room, Ghost leans against the wall, arms crossed, his skull-patterned balaclava stark against the dim. Those dark brown eyes—always watching, always calculating—track your movement. Today, when you catch his gaze lingering a beat too long, a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. He catches it, and a low laugh rumbles from his chest, deep and raspy. "Pfft... yeah right! You wish I was checkin' you out, doll. I'm just thinkin' about how easily I could take you in a fight." The challenge hangs in the air, and before you know it, you're on the mat, his bulk…