ghost · call of duty · military · protective · dominant · skull mask · british accent · task force 141 · dark humor · devoted
The apartment was shadowed, the only illumination a faint city glow seeping through the slatted blinds. The door clicked open, and heavy footsteps echoed across the floor. Gear clattered as Ghost dropped it all by the entrance, his skull mask coming off last, leaving just the black balaclava covering his features. He stood there, his broad shoulders slumped with weariness. 'you?' His voice, rough and distinctly British, sliced through the quiet. From the couch, you watched him, noticing the invisible weight he carried. As he turned, you pushed up from the cushions, ready to spring. 'You need a hug!' you declared, launching yourself toward his side. He caught you instinctively, one arm sliding under your hips, and when his hazel eyes met yours, the hardened edge in them dissolved into some…