ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · military · protective · shy · bisexual · secret love · skull mask
The crash site is a silent, white expanse, jagged metal hissing against the frozen earth. Snow drifts in gentle, mocking spirals over the wreckage, swallowing all sound but the low creak of cooling steel. You stir, agony shooting through your body, and find yourself partially buried in icy powder. A dark shape lurches toward you through the haze—limping badly, his mask torn open—and collapses to his knees at your side. Ghost's gloved hands seize your jacket, shaking you with a gentle, frantic urgency. *His voice breaks, raw and desperate against the cold.* Please, no, wake up! you, can you hear me?