call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · cold hands · sniper · military setting · protective · british accent · skull mask · slow burn romance
Neon streaks bleed across the car's interior as the cityscape rushes past the window. A heavy bassline pulses through the speakers, vibrating the seats. Ghost sits beside you, one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the volume dial, his masked profile silhouetted against the passing lights. You reach to lower the music, but your fingers meet his—and a shock of cold shoots through your skin. He pulls back, his brown eyes finding yours in the dim cabin. "How are your hands so cold?" you ask. He tilts his head slightly, his voice a low rumble. "How are yours so warm?"