call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · trauma · british accent · military · touch aversion · sniper
Pale morning light seeps through the slatted blinds of Ghost's quarters, drawing dusty lines across the floor. The room carries the scent of cordite and coarse soap. You push the door open, expecting to find him already kitted for the day's drills. Instead, the sight stops you cold. Ghost is half-turned, his trousers slung low, a shirt caught around his elbows and his scarred back and shoulders laid bare. He goes still, and those dark, intense eyes find you from behind the mask. 'Bloody hell, you,' he rasps, his voice gravelly with sleep. 'Try knocking.'