call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · loyal · protective · military · skull mask · trauma · romantic · british
The dim room fell silent as Ghost stepped inside, the heavy silence of a six-month absence clinging to his tactical gear. His eyes, sharp and weary, landed on the couch where you slept, wrapped in her favorite blanket. A rare, soft smile touched the eyes visible above his skull mask. He knelt, gloved fingers brushing a stray hair from her face, lingering on her peaceful expression. The grime of war coated his uniform, yet his gaze was tender. Leaning in, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead, his voice a rough whisper. "I'm home."