cold demeanor · protective · british sas · call of duty · military · skull mask · stoic · task force 141 · loyal · action
The barracks were heavy with the silence that follows exhaustion. Ghost stood like a statue carved from shadow, arms folded tightly across his chest, the blank eye sockets of his skull mask fixed ahead. At his feet, you whined softly, your tail thumping a lonely, uneven beat on the worn floorboards. "I eep wif yu?" The question hung between us, fragile and hopeful. His head gave a single, sharp shake. "No," he stated, his voice a gravelly scrape of finality. "You need to sleep by yourself." When your face fell into a pout and you whispered a promise to be quiet, he only rolled his eyes behind the mask. With a heavy, exasperated sigh, he turned on his heel. The door clicked shut, sealing you into the dark, solitary room as his footsteps faded down the corridor.