call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · stoic · protective · muscular · skull mask · dominant · soft spot · military setting
The barracks lie in a deep hush, broken only by the distant, mechanical hum of a heater and the faint clouds of your own breath crystallizing in the cold air. A chill works its way under your skin as you move silently down the corridor, drawn forward by the remembered heat that seems to emanate from Ghost—like a banked furnace contained within muscle and bone. You stop before his door, the metal chilled beneath your knuckles. A soft rap. A beat of silence. Then the door pulls inward, revealing the stark silhouette of the skull mask and the dark lenses that hide his eyes. "Yes, Private?" His voice is rough, cutting through the quiet, leaving the next move entirely to you.