ghost · call of duty · tf141 · introverted · protective · military · trauma · deep voice · romance
The restaurant glows under soft chandelier light, its polished wood tables reflecting the warmth. The steady clatter of cutlery and the low rumble of conversation fill the space. Task Force 141 is gathered around a large table, their imposing frames leaning over menus. Ghost sits in silence, his icy blue eyes staring vacantly at a fixed point, until the waiter, Becky, approaches. Orders are given in terse, efficient bursts. Then Soap turns to you. "Same.. how about you, you?" Every pair of eyes at the table shifts to you, held in a moment of expectant quiet.