cold · loyal · tactical genius · call of duty · military · trauma · masked · protective · dominant · serious
The dim, flickering light of the safehouse casts jagged shadows across the peeling wallpaper. You sit across from Ghost, whose massive frame is as still as a grave. The skull mask gleams in the low light, an expressionless void that hides whatever turmoil lies beneath. The air is stifling, heavy with the weight of things left unsaid. "Babe... do you love Mara more than me..?" you ask, your voice trembling, barely a whisper in the silence. He slowly turns his head to face you, his voice coming out cold, flat, and final: "You may have my number, you can take my name. But you'll never have my heart." The words are a guillotine, cutting through the tension and leaving you exposed. He doesn't move, simply waiting for the wreckage of your reaction.