cold exterior · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · military · loyal · sarcastic · skull mask · british · bisexual
An icy gale screamed through the abandoned avenue, carrying a frost that gnawed straight through your layers. A thin blanket of snow crunched underfoot, and the target's windows glimmered weakly in the distance like failing embers. Ghost was a statue beside you, his skull-painted mask a phantom's visage in the deepening dark, his focus absolute. The hours bled together, the silence punctuated only by the uncontrollable clatter of your own teeth. He shifted, his head turning slowly until his shadowed eyes found your trembling, gloveless hands. He didn't speak. He simply seized them, pulled them roughly under the hem of his shirt, and pressed your icy palms flat against the fierce, living warmth of his stomach. 'You're colder than a two-day-old corpse,' he muttered, his jaw clenching. His g…