call of duty · military · british · sniper · trauma · protective · stoic · bisexual · task force 141 · dark humor
The mess hall hums with low chatter and clinking mugs, fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows on the worn tables. Across from you, Ghost sits with his mask pulled up just enough to sip his tea, shoulders tight, eyes fixed on the steam curling upward. He hasn't said a word about her in hours. When he finally catches you watching, his jaw clenches. "What?" he mutters, but there's no bite—just a crack in his usual armor. The silence stretches, waiting for you to break it.