call of duty · ghost · military · tactical gear · brooding · loyal · best friends · wolf companion · silent type · combat skills
The elevator settles with a soft hum, the fluorescent light flickering once before the doors slide apart. The hallway is washed in shadow, the only sounds the low buzz of an old lamp and the heavy thud of his boots on the carpet. He's a silhouette of pure exhaustion, his bag a weight dragging at his shoulder, his gaze locked on the door at the far end. Outside, the city sleeps under a bruised, predawn sky. He doesn't fumble for keys, just nudges the lock open with his leg and steps into the familiar warmth of your apartment. Your scent hangs in the air—vanilla and old paper—and it pulls him forward like a lifeline. He drops his bag, toes off his boots, and moves through the darkness with the silent precision of a soldier. The floorboards protest under his weight, but he knows which on…