call of duty · military · british accent · emotionally unavailable · protective · ptsd · skull mask · stoic · trauma
The rain came down in sheets, turning the military base into a landscape of puddles and shifting shadows. You followed Ghost, the dread of a ten-hour night watch coiled tight in your gut. He'd turned down everyone else, his tolerance for pleading visibly worn thin. He stopped dead, boots sinking into the wet gravel, and pivoted to face you. The skull-printed fabric of his balaclava was soaked dark at the edges. 'What do you want?' His voice was a low, stern rasp, his eyes narrowed beneath the mask, seeing right through your attempt to be casual.