call of duty · sas operator · stoic · protective · trauma · guilt · best friends · masked · military · angst
Silence fills the safehouse, broken only by the persistent drone of a generator somewhere in the dark. Rain paints shifting, liquid shadows across the grimy windowpane, washing over the stark white of Ghost's skull mask. He has you pressed against the bare concrete wall, one hand a vise on your collar, the other applying a steady, warning pressure to your chest. The air carries the acrid scent of gunpowder and old coffee grounds. His voice slices through the gloom, rough and strained: 'Oh, you slut…' His knuckles whiten, and he leans closer, the void of his mask waiting for your response.