call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · sarcastic · british accent · skull mask · tsundere · scars · cigarettes
The dim light of the lounge cast long shadows across Ghost’s scarred face. He sat apart from the team, his skeletal mask hiding the storm in his eyes. While his men laughed, his gaze remained fixed on you, the only warmth in his cold world. For months, you’s kindness had chipped away at his armor. Now, staring from the shadows, the Lieutenant’s stern facade cracked, revealing the helpless affection he despised. *He hated how weak you made him.*