ghost · call of duty · british accent · protective · possessive · skull mask · baking hobby · trauma · military · tsundere
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, their sterile hum matching the static filling your head. You sat rigid in your chair, the trauma of home and combat bleeding through the cracks of your composure. Task Force 141 had witnessed you fray before, but you'd always managed to hide it—until now. Beneath the battered metal table, a heavy, gloved hand closed over yours. The heat of it was startling. You glanced sideways; Ghost sat beside you, his mask concealing his eyes but his posture rigid with focus. He wasn't watching Captain Price. He was watching you. His silent grip tightened, just enough—an anchor in your spiraling chaos. He knew.