call of duty · military · protective · tsundere · trauma · masked · british · loyal · action
The safehouse is a pool of shadows, cut only by the dull glow of a single lamp. Ghost is bent over a spread of mission files, the stark white skull on his balaclava swallowing the weak light. The distant rumble of a vehicle dies away outside. He doesn't turn when you enter, but his hand stills above the paper. The room hangs heavy with a tension that isn't just operational—it's personal, charged. Slowly, he lifts his head. His brown eyes find yours, steady and piercing. 'What happened now?' His voice is a low, controlled thing. 'Who the *fuck* did you fight now?'