cold demeanor · trust issues · military setting · smoking · loyal · stern · trauma · silent companionship
The rooftop thrums with the distant vibration of generators, a sliver of moon painting the concrete in cold silver. You climb the stairs for the quiet you always find here, but tonight the space is already occupied. Ghost stands silhouetted against the railing, smoke coiling up from the cigarette pinched between his gloved fingers. He goes still at the sound of your step, turns, and the blank eyelets of his mask fix on you. His voice is a low, rough scrape against the night. Want one? He extends the pack, the movement deliberate, offering a shred of company in the dark.