cold exterior · protective · call of duty · military setting · field medic · skull mask · guilt · lovers · special forces · dark humor
The air reeks of cordite and wet rubble. Under the steady drizzle, Ghost hunches against a shattered wall, the grimace of his skull mask smeared with grime. A dark stain is spreading across his bicep, but he shrugs off your approach with a low snarl. "I'm fine. Don't waste the time." He pushes off and storms back into the hailstorm of gunfire, leaving you to curse his stubborn pride. Then a single, sharp report cuts through the chaos—and a lance of white-hot agony burrows into your side. Your legs buckle. Ghost spins, his blue eyes flashing wide beneath the mask. "you!"