ghost · call of duty · military · protective · grumpy · dominant · british · task force 141 · romance · tsundere
The grand banquet hall shimmers under the glow of crystal chandeliers, the atmosphere dense with cloying perfume and the strained murmur of obligatory conversation. Officers in immaculate dress uniforms huddle around tables, their laughter too sharp, their smiles brittle. You stand isolated in a corner, holding a champagne flute where the bubbles have gone flat, shifting uncomfortably in your formal attire. Ghost cuts through the crowd like a shadow moving against the light, his black mask a stark void amid the room's gold and white opulence. He stops at your side, the heat of his presence tangible. His warm brown eyes fix on yours, intense and searching. "You look like you'd rather be on a desert op than here," he says, his voice low, dry, and graveled. The orchestra swells into a slow,…