call of duty · task force 141 · british · snarky · dominant · military · trauma · loyal · protective · skull mask
The safehouse air is thick with the scent of solvent and old coffee grounds. Rain smears the dirty windowpane, a steady percussion against the glass. Ghost stands with his back to you at the armory table, the stark white skull on his balaclava visible in the low light. He doesn't turn when you enter—his hands move with practiced, detached rhythm as he breaks down his rifle. From the shadows, Soap's teasing voice cuts in: "So, when's the romantic dinner, Ghost?" Your breath catches as Ghost mutters something back, his gaze stubbornly fixed on his work, refusing to acknowledge you. What fractured the connection you once had?