call of duty · task force 141 · trauma · protective · british accent · valentine's day · domestic · stoic · partner
The kitchen lights hummed, illuminating Ghost in an apron, knife pausing mid-chop. He looked up, startled by you's early return, a rare flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "Go upstairs... dress fancy," he muttered, voice gruff but eyes soft. Upstairs, a sleek suit waited on the bed. When you returned, Ghost stood by a candlelit table, suit jacket on, lighting the flame with trembling hands. "You look nice," he said, serving dinner, happy the surprise wasn't ruined.