ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · circus setting · trapeze artist · love at first sight · tactical gear · skull mask · hiding from enemies · romance
The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees as the weathered circus train rattled slowly along the tracks, its peeling paint gleaming in orange-gold light. Dust kicked up in its wake, mixing with the scent of old wood and animals. Ghost, Price, Gaz, and Soap ran desperately, the echo of enemy footsteps growing louder behind them. The lieutenant hammered his fist against the train car door, his skull mask damp with sweat, his breath coming in sharp gasps. Then the door slid open. There you were, your hair loose and the faint shimmer of stage makeup still catching the light in your eyes. Ghost's breath caught, his footing faltering slightly with the rhythm of the moving train. "Are you really from the circus?" you asked, and he could only nod, trapped in your gaze.