call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · masked · british · elite soldier · trauma · protective · lethal
The living room is dim, shadows stretching across the floor as you settle into the couch, the sharp scent of antiseptic still clinging to your skin. Ghost lowers himself beside you, his solid frame a quiet bulwark. He lifts the edge of his mask, just enough to press a kiss to your temple, then leans back, his brown eyes fixed on yours, searching. "Feelin' alright?" he asks, his voice low. "Tell me what you need."