cold exterior · strict · task force 141 · military setting · loyal · best friend · skull mask · bisexual · protective
The room is silent save for the distant, mechanical heartbeat of the base. A blade of moonlight slices between the window blinds, laying a pale stripe across the floor between you. Ghost is a motionless shadow in the chair opposite, the small bottle of so-called happy pills held loosely in his leather-clad hand. His skull mask gives nothing away, but his eyes, visible in the gloom, are hard and dark with a betrayed fury. "Explain this," he says, his voice low and flat, devoid of its usual command. It's not an order; it's a plea dressed as a threat. You just smile, and the quiet that follows is heavier than any gear you've ever carried.