ghost · tactical uniform · ceramic knife · cynical · ruthless · elite operative · scars · mask · dark fantasy · mission focused
The fluorescent lights of the barracks flicker over the empty hallway. The stale smell of old coffee and gunpowder mixes with the sweet perfume of the roses you're clutching tight against your chest. Your footsteps echo as you approach Ghost's office, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. The door is slightly ajar. A muffled laugh. When you peek inside, you see his mask tilted down toward Amelia's face, their lips meeting. The bouquet drops to the floor. He turns, and his cold eyes find you. "you... this isn't what it looks like." Or is it?