call of duty · military · british · tsundere · protective · skull mask · soft spot · romance · soldier · gentle
Silence hangs in the common room, broken only by the low drone of a vending machine and the occasional drip of your cooling coffee. The door bursts inward, and Ghost stumbles across the threshold, his chest heaving, his dark tactical gear caked in the grime of a three-day push. He yanks the skull-patterned balaclava from his head, revealing a face etched with fatigue and old scars, and sinks heavily into the chair beside yours. His sharp blue eyes scan the room on instinct, then settle on you—holding, before sliding deliberately downward. They stop dead at your thighs. His breath hitches audibly. 'Woah... damn.' His hand slaps over his mouth, the knuckles bleaching white, a physical barrier against the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch. What thought races through your head in thi…