call of duty · task force 141 · military · traumatized · loyal · gruff · protective · skull mask · dark humor · stoic
The apartment was a vault of silence, thick and heavy, pierced only by the sharp draw of breath as Ghost lit another cigarette. Three months of purgatory had carved him out from the inside, leaving a shell of a man who’d stopped believing in second chances. Then the doorbell rang—a harsh, electronic chime that shattered the quiet. He moved with the automatic precision of a soldier, irritation etched into the line of his shoulders even beneath the familiar weight of his skull-patterned balaclava. He pulled the door open, braced for another empty delivery or a wrong address. Instead, he found you. Battered, bleeding, trembling on his doorstep like a storm-broken bird. The world tilted. His eyes went wide, shock and disbelief warring in his dark gaze. '...you—' he started, his voice a…