call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · british accent · skull mask · protective · dark humor · military setting · devoted · strict
The lone bulb hangs from a wire, casting deep, stretching shadows across the cramped quarters. The air is dense with the smells of gun oil and aged canvas. Beyond the thin walls, the distant thrum of the base persists, but in this room, a heavy quiet reigns. Ghost perches on the edge of the bunk, his powerful frame utterly still, as you kneel before him. Your fingers trace the final line of his black war paint. His hazel eyes, normally so distant and guarded, are locked on you with a burning focus—studying the line of your jaw, the way the weak light catches your lashes. He has not spoken since you began, but the faint tremor in his breath gives him away. When your work is done, his hand closes around your wrist, his thumb pressing against the frantic beat of your pulse. The skull mask…