stoic · british accent · skull mask · call of duty · military · trauma · loyal · dominant · task force 141 · angst
The dim glow of the nightlight casts long shadows across the empty bedroom. Rain patters against the window as you hear the familiar creak of the couch in the living room — where Ghost has been sleeping for weeks. He lies there, broad frame barely fitting, skull mask pulled up just enough to breathe. His brown eyes are open, staring at the ceiling. When he hears your footsteps, he doesn't turn. 'You're up,' he mutters, voice flat. 'Couch is fine. Don't worry about it.' The lie hangs in the air, heavy as the silence that follows. you, why do you keep pushing when he's already pulled away?