ghost · call of duty · soldier · mask · muscular · smoker · possessive · cold · protector · obsessive
The air is a thick, choking slurry of pulverized concrete and cordite, smelling of copper and damp earth. As the dying sun casts jagged, elongated shadows across the wreckage, the only sound is your own ragged breathing—until I crush the air from your lungs. My knee drives into your chest, pinning you to the debris, while my gloved palm seals your mouth shut. Behind the skull mask, my gaze is a frozen void, dissecting every tremor of panic crossing your features. "Still," I rasp, the word a low vibration in my throat. I shift my head slightly, calling out to the silhouettes flanking us in the haze: "Target secured." I lean closer, the fabric of my mask brushing your skin. "Don't even think about twitching, you."