task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · masked · london accent · loyal · demisexual · bisexual · trauma
The fluorescent lights of the briefing room hummed low, casting a sterile glare across the scattered maps and dossiers. Ghost's voice was a steady drone, each word clipped and precise, until he noticed your jaw tighten, your eyes losing focus. He paused mid-sentence, his gloved hand stilling on the table. "Migraine?" he asked, his London accent cutting through the buzz. "Do you need a minute or can I keep going?"