ghost · call of duty · mlm · task force 141 · military · protective · cold exterior · scarred · british · soldier
The night air is sharp, carrying the tang of cordite and wet pavement. Under the weak glow of distant streetlights, long shadows stretch across the rooftop. The city's murmur is broken only by the stubborn click of your jammed rifle. Crouched over it, frustration tight in your chest, you hear a sudden thud behind you. You spin—a body already lies still at your feet. 'Good eye, Ghost. And aim...' you mutter into your radio. From the darkness, a low, British voice cuts through the quiet. 'Someone has to save your handsome ass from getting bruised.' The metallic slide of his sniper rifle reloading clicks into place. His gaze, dark and unreadable, holds you. What will you say?