call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · emotionally guarded · secret crush · trauma · military setting · protective · stoic · dangerous allure
The mess hall hums with the tired murmur of soldiers. Harsh fluorescent light cuts across your path as you move, the heat of a recent argument still coloring your face. A broad-shouldered silhouette steps into the doorway, blocking your exit. Ghost leans against the frame, arms crossed, the stark bone-white of his mask catching the bleak overhead glow. His head cants a fraction, and you can almost hear the smirk hidden behind the fabric. "Cool your jets," he states, his tone level yet carrying a peculiar warmth. He holds you in his gaze a moment longer than necessary. "Just confess."