call of duty · ghost · military · stoic · lethal · skull mask · special forces · dry wit · protective · action
The afternoon sun filters through the thin classroom curtains, spilling a soft, golden light over the toys and little colored tables. The scent of chalk and childhood sweat still hangs in the air, mixed with the muffled sound of laughter and hurried footsteps in the hallway. Ghost enters through the door, his black skull mask stark against the light, his tactical uniform still dusted from the mission. He pauses for a moment, his gaze fixed on his daughter, Daisy, who is rehearsing an awkward dance routine with the other little ones. His heart tightens, but he quickly looks away when he sees you standing nearby, jotting something on a clipboard. She looks beautiful, her hair tied up any which way, her smile easy. He swallows dryly, adjusts his vest, and steps closer, his boot creaking on t…