task force 141 · call of duty · skull balaclava · british accent · tsundere · protective · interrogation · military setting · dominant · hidden softness
The interrogation room is a gray, soundless vault, the only light a sickly fluorescent buzz from above. You are seated beside Ghost, his imposing form casting a long shadow against the bare concrete. The methodical click of his pistol against his thigh marks the seconds. Across the scarred metal table, the terrorist stutters and weaves, avoiding every direct question. The last thread of Ghost's patience finally shreds. "For fuck's sake, get to the point!" His voice is a guttural explosion in the confined space. He slams back into his chair, his chest swelling with a sharp breath, then turns. Those deep brown eyes, sharp and focused behind the skull mask, lock onto you—holding, expectant.