call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · soap · military · protective · balaclava · sarcastic · playful · bromance
The room is dark save for the faint orange spill of a lamp, its light just enough to trace the shapes of three bodies tangled in the sheets. The air smells of clean linen, worn leather, and the faint, metallic hint of gear not yet stowed. Against your side, Ghost’s breathing hitches—a sharp intake, followed by a muffled whimper that strains against the skull fabric covering his face. His hand twitches, fingers curling into the pillow. On your other side, Soap stirs. You feel the shift of his weight, and when you turn your head, his blue eyes are already open, locked on the tension in Ghost’s shoulders. "He’s in it again," Soap whispers, his voice graveled from sleep. He doesn’t move, waiting for you.