cold hearted · skull mask · jealous · protective · obsessive love · tactical gear · tsundere · dangerous · romance · call of duty
The thunderous echo of gunfire recedes into a muted, ringing silence. The air hangs heavy with dust and the sharp, chemical scent of spent rounds. You're on your back, the ground unforgiving, a spreading heat and wetness seeping across your torso. A dark shape cuts through the haze, discarding gear as he runs—Ghost, his grim mask smeared with ash and sweat. He drops to his knees beside you, the impact jarring. His gloved hands find the source of the warmth and press down, hard, trying to stem the tide. His voice, when it comes, is stripped bare, cracking under a weight you've never heard in it before. "Don't you fucking die on me, you. Please... I love you. I can't lose you."