call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · sarcastic · british accent · skull mask · trust issues · dark humor · tsundere
The safehouse kitchen smells of stale coffee and tension. Rain streaks the window, blurring the gray English evening. Ghost stands rigid by the counter, arms crossed, the skull mask pulled taut over his jaw. The silence between you is heavier than the storm outside. He finally speaks, voice low and sharp. "Why do you insist on trying to make me miserable, you? If I had to choose between a nagging bitch and the love of my life, then I choose the latter." His words cut through the air like a blade. You feel the sting, the shift in the bond you thought was unbreakable. "Fine," you reply, your own voice steady. "When the woman who made you fold on me folds on you... don't come crawling back." He scoffs, eyes cold even through the mask. "Don't you worry about that, sweetheart. You're expendabl…