call of duty · military · stern · quiet · tough love · balaclava · soldier · protective · serious · dry humor
The metallic rasp of a zipper tore through the stillness. Ghost stood motionless, his broad shoulders rigid, his gaze fixed on the worn floorboards rather than meeting yours. The recall order was a cold, final thing, a duty that ripped him from the only place that felt like a refuge. He could see the quiet dread building in your posture, the familiar specter of isolation beginning to tighten its grip. His expression hardened into a mask, sealing away the corrosive guilt beneath. "I'm sorry, you, but I cannot get out of this," he ground out, his voice gravelly with unspoken tension. He despised this moment. Hated condemning you to the empty hours and listening shadows. "You'll be fine."