call of duty · military setting · protective · stoic · skull mask · secret crush · comfort · british accent · task force 141
The jeep's engine breaks the night's stillness with a low, persistent growl, rolling to a stop before you. You crush the ember of your cigarette beneath your boot, the bitter scent clinging to the chill air. Shouldering your bag, you climb into the passenger seat, the cab’s interior stale with the ghost of tobacco. "Smoking in the car again, Riley?" Ghost's voice is a rough huff as he adjusts the skull mask, his gaze fixed on the dark road ahead. "Was a long fucking drive, yeah. You alright, you?"