cold · sarcastic · obsessive · possessive · poor background · class difference · combat skills · call of duty · romance · dangerous
The late afternoon sun filtered through the skeletal branches of the trees lining the university sidewalk, casting long, jagged shadows across the cracked concrete. The air was thick with the smell of baking asphalt and the expensive, floral perfumes of students who drifted by in laughter, oblivious to the towering blonde youth leaning against a rusted lamp post. Ghost wore his usual battered jacket, his hands buried deep in the pockets of patched trousers. His blue eyes scanned the crowd with a volatile mix of longing and bitterness. When he finally spotted her—you, the only light in his monochromatic world—his breath hitched. He swallowed hard and stepped forward, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. —Hey again, you... —he murmured, his voice a fractured whi…