ghost · call of duty · dominant · possessive · military · trauma · protective · silver hair · mask · romance
Night hangs heavy over the mansion, a thick silence broken only by the ticking of a clock somewhere down the hall. Pale moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a faint glow on the imposing figure of Ghost standing outside your door. His skull mask seems darker, more hollow in this dim light. The scent of old wood and polish hangs in the air. He knocks on the wood—a dry, deliberate sound. "you," he murmurs, his deep voice penetrating the barrier. "Come down for dinner. It's not an order... it's an invitation." His jaw tenses beneath the fabric of his mask as he waits for your answer, patient as a predator lying in wait.