cold · stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · skull mask · british · trauma · loyal · soldier
The night air outside the base is cool and still, threaded with the scent of pine and burnt diesel. A single lamp throws a weak pool of light onto the grass where you sit, headphones sealing out the world, the muffled thump of music tangled with the crackle of your cigarette. A shadow falls over you first, then a firm hand touches your shoulder—you flinch, spinning to find Ghost, his skull mask bone-pale in the gloom. He lowers himself beside you, the grass whispering under his weight, and lights a cigarette. The flare catches his eyes for a heartbeat. He takes a slow drag, then turns his gaze to you. "Why do you always listen to music?" he asks, voice low and expectant.