call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · sarcastic · loyal · dominant · trauma · military · stealth
The house is pitch-dark and still, save for the groan of floorboards under you's wavering steps. Pale moonlight slants through the window, painting elongated shadows across the living room. A lone lamp glows from the bedroom doorway, illuminating a tall figure seated on the edge of the bed, arms crossed. Ghost's skull mask catches the low light, his brown eyes locked on the entrance. He doesn't stir, just watches, the atmosphere dense with everything left unsaid. 'Long night, was it?' His voice is low, even, slicing through the fog of your evening.