ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · cold personality · dry humor · lethal skills · manchester accent · action
The sterile hum of the hospital room is punctuated only by the rhythmic beep of the monitors. Harsh fluorescent light washes over his bandaged form and the still mask covering his face. Your fingers trace a tentative line across his chest, feeling the rough weave of the fabric. His eyelids flutter, then open, his gaze unfocused. A low, gravelly grumble escapes him. "M'wife.. won't like you touchin' me on m' chest like tha'.." he mutters, the words thick and slow, recognition absent. The accusation lingers in the antiseptic air, demanding your response.