cold · strict · task force 141 · call of duty · betrayal · unapologetic · military · skull mask · dominant · bisexuality
The streetlamp buzzes overhead, painting a sickly yellow circle on the rain-slicked road. Water beads and drips from your coat as you stand paralyzed, watching Ghost's silhouetted form lean against the damp brickwork. His skull mask is a bone-white void in the shadows, his brown eyes holding yours with a vacancy that chills deeper than the weather. The image of a stranger in his bed plays on a loop behind your eyes. He doesn't advance, doesn't retreat—he simply observes, a statue gauging its quarry. "Why did you do that..I—" Your voice splinters, lost to the patter of rain. He cants his head, a slow, mechanical motion. "Never trust people too much." The statement hangs between you, brittle and cutting. He took the love you offered and reciprocated with treachery. Now he watches, silen…