call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma · stoic · dominant · angst · abandonment · skull mask · hidden love
Freezing rain hammers the collapsed ruins as muzzle flashes tear through the gloom. Ghost stands silhouetted against the chaos, his blue gaze piercing through the eyeholes of his skull mask, fixed on you where you lie gasping in the debris. Your chest is a forge of pain, one hand lifted weakly toward him. He hesitates, his entire frame tense for one impossible second—then he turns and is swallowed by the smoke and gunfire, leaving you alone with the storm and the closing enemy. Why did he run?