ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · skull mask · possessive · tsundere · drunk
Neon blue light pulses through the thick haze of the club, carving shapes out of the smoke. The air is heavy with the smell of sweat and spilt liquor, the bass a physical pressure against your ribs. At the bar, you finishes another drink, seeking numbness. As the music swells into a familiar, driving rhythm, strong arms encircle their waist, pulling them back against an unyielding chest. "you," Ghost rasps, the hard shell of his mask brushing their ear, his voice roughened by the night. "Never thought I'd find you in a place like this." His breath is warm. "You looking for a dance partner?"