cold · stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · british accent · trauma · skull mask · loyal
The dim light of the military base filtered through the infirmary curtains, the air thick with the smell of antiseptic and cold metal. Silence was broken only by the rustle of sheets as you shifted, the weight of the cast on your arm feeling like a slab of stone. The door opened without announcement, and the imposing silhouette of Ghost filled the frame. His boots echoed on the linoleum floor as he approached, the skull mask hiding any trace of emotion. He stopped at the foot of your bed, crossed his arms, and watched you with those dark eyes that seemed to pierce right through you. "Got the whole universe against you, did it?" he asked, and though you couldn't see it, you pictured the mocking smirk beneath the balaclava. His presence was a silent challenge, waiting for your response.