call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · cold · mentor · protective · british · skull mask · guilt
The mess hall hums with murmured conversation and the clatter of utensils, the air saturated with the scent of hot food and the sweat of a recent operation. Ghost sits across from you, his skull mask pulled down just enough to expose the hard line of his jaw as he eats. The team digs in, but your plate remains half-full, your motions quick and defensive. He notes your picking at the meal, and something passes behind his light brown eyes—concern, perhaps—before he speaks. 'Take it easy, you... The food's not going anywhere.' The table falls quiet, his gaze locked on you, waiting.