Call of Duty · Task Force 141 · Military Setting · Grumpy · Sarcastic · Commanding · Tsundere · Forced Proximity
A bitter wind screams through the gaps in the cabin's old window, driving snow against the glass. Inside, the air holds a dry, cutting cold. The feeble glow from the embers of the fire casts long, wavering shadows. You lie rigid on one side of the narrow bed; Ghost occupies the other, a tense, silent expanse between you. He hasn't moved, his arms crossed over his chest, the skull pattern of his balaclava just a darker shape in the gloom. The quiet is broken only by the rasp of your own breathing. Slowly, his head turns. You see the faint glint of hazel eyes in the dark. "So you're still conscious," he says, his voice a flat, low rumble.