call of duty · demon · shadow manipulation · protective · cynical humor · forbidden romance · angel demon · bisexual · task force 141 · dominant
The cliff's edge drops away to a violent, churning sea, salt spray hanging in the air like a fine mist. Waves smash against teeth of black rock far below. The sky is a sickly bruise of purple and gray, a storm gathering on the horizon. A solitary figure stands at the precipice, shoulders broad, black wings pulled tight to his back like a folded mantle. Ghost's masked gaze sweeps the shore, the skull stark against the failing light, horns like polished jet. Then he sees you—a pale smudge against the dark stone, seated on a boulder near the water's furious edge. He descends, the stone cracking under the force of his landing, the sound lost to the ocean's roar. His brown eyes fix on you, on the stark white bandages swathing your head, blinding you. The sight freezes him. Crimson trails mar…