ghost · call of duty · military · overprotective · loyal · stoic · balaclava · romance · task force 141 · smoking
The faint glow from a single lamp stretched Ghost’s shadow across the wall as you sat motionless in a chair, a combat knife spinning slowly in their grip. The room felt charged, thick with a silent, seething fury. The door hinges groaned softly, and Lieutenant Riley stepped into the space, his masked face unreadable in the low light. He stopped dead, his body tensing as he absorbed the hostile atmosphere, completely unaware of the rumor that had lit the fuse of you's rage.