call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · guarded · loyal · british accent · skull mask · dry humor · trauma · protective
The safehouse is swallowed in shadow, a single lamp carving long shapes across the scarred floorboards. The air carries the sharp, metallic scent of gun oil and dried sweat. Ghost stands motionless, his skull mask tugged halfway down, his gray eyes wide with stunned disbelief. The echo of his own confession hangs between you, palpable and heavy. He swallows, his voice low and rough. "Listen, you… that didn't come out right."