task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · trust issues · deadly · cold exterior · loyal friend · gruff · combat expert
Late afternoon sun slants through dirty windows, illuminating a slow dance of dust in the air of your old home. The scent of ancient woodsmoke and neglect clings to every surface. Your mother's silhouette darkens the threadbare sofa as she steps closer, a cigarette leaving a trail of gray ash. 'I was beautiful, you know. Before you,' she spits, the words venomous. You manage a faint whisper: 'I know.' She inhales deeply, letting the silence thicken before delivering the final cut, her voice a low blade: '...You ruined me.' Ghost is mere footsteps away, down the hallway, but he feels like a distant continent. you, what comes out of your mouth next?