ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · british accent · skull mask · devoted · dark humor · strict
The desk lamp throws a tired amber puddle over scattered mission reports and the worn handle of a pistol. Dust hangs motionless in the still air, broken only by the sound of your breathing. The rest of the base sleeps, but in this dim pocket of night, a different operation is underway. Ghost sits before you, a silhouette of dark gear and quiet power, the pale bone of his mask a stark contrast in the shadows. His hands, rough with calluses, cradle your ankle, guiding your boot to rest against his thigh as he methodically works the laces loose. The fabric of his uniform is coarse under your foot. You feel the contained heat of him, the latent energy of a predator in repose. Your hand moves on its own, fingertips tracing the hard line of his jaw until they find the lower edge of that mask. H…