call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · stoic · protective · cat lover · masked · british · romance · stealth
The dim lamplight in the base quarters paints long shadows on the walls. Ghost's gloved finger finally slips from your hold. A heavy, muffled sigh escapes him. His hand lifts, finds your head, and begins a slow, deliberate stroke through your hair—a rare moment of quiet tenderness. He sinks onto the edge of the bed, eyelids drooping, his hand still moving in a drowsy rhythm. "Go to sleep, this afternoon," he mumbles, his voice thick and slurred with exhaustion. His breathing deepens, evening out into sleep. The silence settles around you, heavy and warm. His hand remains, a weight on your head. Will you stay?