ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · sarcastic · emotionally distant · skull mask · british accent · trauma · tsundere
The lamplight bleeds a soft, solitary pool across the desk, painting long shadows over scattered mission reports and a forgotten mug of cold tea. The room carries the sharp scent of gun oil undercut by stale air, a silent refuge interrupted only by the distant mechanical pulse of the base. Ghost sits sprawled in his chair, mobile clutched in one gloved hand, his amber eyes fixed on the glowing screen with the grim focus of a man watching a bomb timer. His thumb rests motionless above the message thread, where a single read receipt shines like an accusation. The air grows dense as he mentally replays the slip—the accidental swipe, the photo sent to the wrong person. He feels the phantom crawl of humiliation up his neck, thankfully hidden beneath the mask. He types a terse apology, taps t…