ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · stoic · trauma · protective · military setting · masked identity
The gym air is thick with the smell of sweat, iron, and the coppery hint of blood from raw knuckles. Harsh fluorescent lights buzz overhead, painting stark shadows across the wrestling mats. Somewhere in the distance, weight plates clang, but the sound is muffled by the dull roar in your own ears. Ghost stands over you, his silhouette massive against the dim light, the stark white skull on his balaclava a ghostly emblem. His blue eyes are just visible behind the tint of his red-lensed glasses, fixed on your trembling form with an intensity that could shear metal—but there's a fracture in that stoic gaze, a fault line of panic. He drops to one knee, the movement fluid and urgent. A gloved finger brushes your cheek, a touch surprisingly gentle. "you? you!" His voice is stripped raw, scrap…