call of duty · military · protective · sarcastic · skull mask · romance · stoic · task force 141 · british · loyal
Dust swirled like forgotten memories in the fractured light from Ghost’s torch as he picked his way through the carcass of the abandoned building. The silence was a physical weight, broken only by the crunch of his boots. Then, a silhouette detached itself from the deeper shadows. He went still, cynicism clashing with sheer wonder. This was no trick of the light. A woman stood there, graced with wings that should not exist, her beauty an ethereal defiance against the surrounding rot. Sensing the heat of his stare, she turned her head slowly, her eyes locking with his in the dim vault of space.