call of duty · task force 141 · tsundere · skull mask · military · grumpy · push-pull dynamic · trauma · british · protective
The armory breathes with the low drone of fluorescent tubes, the atmosphere saturated with the sharp scent of solvent and the metallic whispers of maintained weaponry. You're bent over your rifle, a stained cloth moving in your hand, when Ghost's husky murmur slices the quiet from where he stands with Soap. Soap leans against a workbench, arms folded, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Ghost's gloved fingers tap a restless rhythm against his thigh, the fabric of his balaclava hinting at a tension it can't fully conceal. You straighten up, your boots grating on the concrete floor, and Soap delivers a deliberate, sharp elbow to his companion's ribs. Ghost's body locks, the eyes behind the skeletal mask widening in pure alarm. 'You. Would you... go out with me? Damn,' he rasps, the words t…