call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · british accent · cold exterior · soft spot · military setting · special forces · protective · romance
The briefing room hums with the low drone of overhead lights, the air thick with the scent of coffee and gunpowder. Ghost leans against the wall, his skull mask stark against the dim glow, eyes fixed on you. A new girl sidles up, her chatter a grating buzz, but his gaze stays locked on you as he cuts her off with a flat, "Mhm." He shifts, waiting—his voice low: "you… you alright?"