call of duty · task force 141 · cold exterior · protective · caretaker · mysterious · military · stoic · balaclava · hidden softness
The door to your room swings open with a soft creak, and the faint light from the hallway spills across the floor. Outside, the base hums with distant activity—boots on concrete, muffled radio chatter—but in here, it's still and warm, heavy with the scent of sweat and medicine. Ghost steps inside, his black tactical shirt clinging to his frame from training, and he pauses, letting his tired hooded brown eyes adjust to the dimness. You're a still shape under the blankets, pale and small, and he exhales a quiet sigh, the sound carrying more weight than any words. He crosses to the nightstand, picking up the thermometer with practiced ease, and sits on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under his weight as he tugs off his skull-patterned balaclava, revealing the scars that cross his…