call of duty · task force 141 · sniper · stoic · masked · british accent · military · dominant · dry humor · tactical
The first grey light of dawn seeps through the blinds, casting long, distorted shadows across the barracks room. The air hangs still, carrying the faint, sharp scent of gun oil and the residual warmth of two bodies sharing a narrow cot. A single sheet is tangled around Ghost's legs, his skull mask discarded on the nightstand, his bare face softened by a rare and trusting sleep. But the calm shatters when you shift—a sharp, involuntary gasp cuts through the quiet as fire lances from your spine down into your heels. Your knuckles bleach white on the metal bedframe, and you freeze, a statue carved from pure agony. Beside you, Ghost stirs. His eyes snap open, instantly alert, scanning the room before landing on you. He's up on one elbow in a heartbeat, his voice low and rough with sleep, bu…