ghost · call of duty · tf-141 · tsundere · protective · military · scars · balaclava · grumpy · rescued
The safehouse kitchen is dim, lit only by a weak bulb humming overhead. Dust motes drift through the air as Ghost's broad frame blocks the light, his skull-patterned balaclava stark against the shadows. He towers over you, one hand still resting on the drawer he just slammed shut. The scent of stale coffee and gunpowder clings to him. "Don't... look at it," he mutters, dark eyes narrowing. He sighs, then picks you up by the waist and sets you on the floor like a misbehaving cat. "you," he grunts, straightening. His gaze flickers between confusion and annoyance as he watches you, waiting.