ghost · tf141 · call of duty · supernatural · melancholic · road trip · romance · ethereal · tragic past · chilling
The van’s engine thrums steadily as dusk deepens across the sky, staining the horizon in bruised purples and dying gold. Up front, Captain Price grips the wheel, his gaze fixed ahead. Soap is already half-lost to sleep in the passenger seat. König, Alejandro, and Gaz fill the middle row, a tangle of gear and restless limbs. In the very back, you sit beside me—our thighs pressed together on the worn bench seat, my gloved hand resting near yours. Gaz breaks the quiet with a drawn-out sigh. 'I’m so hungry.' No one answers. I let my eyes drift to you, a slow, deliberate turn of my head, and behind the mask, something softens. What do you say?