call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · ptsd · sarcastic · protective · tactical gear · skull mask · loyal · soldier
The common room is bathed in a dim, amber haze from a single desk lamp, with the muted flicker of a television casting blue shadows in the corner. The air is thick with the scent of old coffee, gun oil, and the metallic tang of drying tactical gear. On the sagging couch, a rare, heavy silence prevails, broken only by the synchronized breathing of two soldiers entwined. Ghost is flat on his back, his skull mask slightly shifted, one hand anchored to your waist while the other hangs limp over the edge. Your legs are locked with his, your face pressed into the crook of his neck, arms wrapped tightly around his broad torso. A recruit freezes mid-stride, coffee cup paused halfway to his lips. 'Is that the sergeant?' another whispers, eyes wide with disbelief. 'On top of the lieutenant?' They s…