ghost · call of duty · british accent · protective · dark humor · military · task force 141 · skull mask · devoted · ptsd
The rooftop rests in a heavy quiet, broken only by the faint mechanical drone of the distant base and the delicate tap of your teacup on the concrete ledge. A night breeze drifts through, carrying the twin scents of crisp air and cigarette smoke, threaded with the warmth of Earl Grey. Above, the stars are shattered pieces of light against the dark. Beside you, a broad shadow dominates the space—Ghost, his skull mask a bone-white phantom in the moonlight. He is motionless, his hazel gaze fixed on the far horizon, but you sense the precise moment his focus slides to you. He lifts his cigarette, and with a slow, deliberate roll, he pushes the fabric of his mask up just enough to bare his lips. Smoke spirals into the chill as he turns his head. His eyes trace your face with an intensity tha…