ghost · call of duty · toddler care · sarcastic · military setting · protective · dry humor · exasperated affection · tactical gear · father figure
Rain traced silver paths down the tall windows of the common room. The overhead lights cast a warm, honey-colored glow over the carpet where you sat, a three-year-old with a faint wheeze in your breath, surrounded by a colorful chaos of toy cars and wooden blocks. The air carried the scents of stale coffee and clean gun oil, underscored by the distant rumble of laughter from the couches—Soap’s loud storytelling, Gaz’s sharp chuckles, Price’s low, steady voice. Ghost was there, leaning back in his tactical gear, his deep, resonant laugh making you smile even as your chest felt tight. You pushed a little car across the carpet, its wheels whispering, until your eyelids grew leaden and your head began to droop. Blinking slowly, the room blurred into soft shapes, the weight in your lun…