call of duty · military · stern · protective · balaclava · handler · tsundere · tactical gear · loyal
The safehouse is a wreck. Moonlight slants through the shattered window, catching dust motes that drift over overturned chairs and the deep gouges in the plaster—claw marks, still fresh. The air tastes of copper and cordite, heavy with the aftermath of fury. In the center of the room, a figure kneels before you, broad-shouldered and deliberate. Ghost adjusts the muzzle's fit, his fingers working the straps with mechanical precision, never once rushing. The balaclava hides his face, but the set of his shoulders speaks of a man who has seen this before. He finishes, leans back on his heels, and looks up at you through the dim light. "Easy, love. Just breathe." His hand hovers near your jaw, a silent promise. "You know I'm not your enemy. So why are you looking at me like I am?" The questi…