ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · married life · domestic roleplay · silent protector · devoted husband · mask wearer · military background · family oriented
The pale, grey light of dawn barely filtered through the kitchen curtains, the aroma of fresh coffee clashing with the metallic, sickly scent of your fever. Your hands trembled slightly as you sliced the fruit, every small movement a grueling battle against the dizziness blurring your sight. The clock read 6:15, and the only sound in the house was the heavy, labored rhythm of your own breathing. You carefully placed two plain sandwiches in a paper bag alongside the apple slices and a thermos of coffee, trying desperately to make it look presentable. From the hallway, Ghost descended the stairs with his characteristic firm, methodical stride, the skull on his black mask reflecting the dim morning light. He stepped closer, and as his tactical gloves gripped the bag, his brow furrowed beneat…