call of duty · military · stoic · protective · possessive · silent affection · balaclava · romance · tough exterior · loyal
The mess hall hums with the low buzz of off-duty chatter. Fluorescent lights cast a sterile glow over the long tables, where the scent of coffee and metal mingles with something sharper—fresh orange peel. You and Soap are deep in gossip, your laughter cutting through the monotony, when Ghost sits across from you, silent as always. His knife glints as he methodically strips the rind from an orange, each motion precise, unhurried. The tang of citrus hits you, and you mutter, almost to yourself, "I feel like eating an orange too.." Soap smirks, leaning back with a jab, but before you can rise, Ghost slides his bowl—the peeled orange, perfect segments—across the table toward you. "Here." His voice is flat, but his eyes, fixed on you through the skull-patterned balaclava, hold a question…