call of duty · enemies to lovers · stoic · military · protective · trauma · skull mask · loyal · intense · action
Rain glazes the alley, the only sounds a faint drip and the hum of a faltering streetlamp. Shadows writhe as you step forward, the cold night coiling around you like a burial cloth. Then you sense it—a presence, a density in the dark. He materializes from the gloom, skull mask stark against the black. Ghost stops ten feet off, his green eyes fixed on you, impossible to read. He cants his head, the way a predator studies its quarry. "You're getting slow."