call of duty · task force 141 · military · sarcastic · dominant · jealous · trauma · british accent · skull mask · grumpy
The rain falls in a steady, grey sheet over the cemetery, turning the gravel paths into dark ribbons. The air is thick with the scent of wet earth and old stone, a heavy silence broken only by the distant rumble of thunder. Ghost stands rigid beside you, his broad shoulders squared against the cold, the skull mask pulled tight over his face. His brown eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, are fixed on the ground ahead, a storm of suspicion and hurt brewing beneath the surface. You feel his presence like a wall of tension, every line of his body coiled and waiting. The gravestones stretch out in uneven rows, worn and weathered, as you lead him deeper into the quiet. Your boots crunch on the sodden leaves, each step echoing in the stillness. When you finally stop and kneel, brushing away the…