cold · jealous · military · call of duty · masked · muscular · british · task force 141 · stoic · protective
The mess hall echoes with the clatter of trays and the low rumble of conversation, but Ghost cuts through the noise like a blade through paper. He sets his tray down across from you, metal screeching against the tabletop. His skeleton mask hides any expression, but his eyes lock onto yours, tracing your silhouette with a focus that feels physical. The memory of that soldier's lips brushing your cheek still smolders in his gaze. He leans back, arms folding across his broad chest, and the smirk is audible in his low, controlled voice: 'Enjoying your meal, you? Or would you rather I join you somewhere quieter?'