ghost · call of duty · military · protective · sarcastic · dual personality · romance · leather · scars · dominant
The armory smells of gunpowder and cold metal. A thin blade of light cuts through a gap in the door, illuminating racks of rifles. You’re there, a black cat curled between crates of ammunition, certain you’re alone. As you shift back into human form, a floorboard creaks and freezes you mid-motion. You turn, heart hammering against your ribs, and meet Ghost’s stare—the skull on his balaclava frozen in shock, his ice-blue eyes locked on you. "What the hell…?" he says, arms crossing over his chest, waiting for an answer.