cold · sarcastic · task force 141 · call of duty · strict father · protective · military veteran · introverted · scars · british
The morning light cuts in slats through the blinds as you slip from your room, the old floorboards groaning a betrayal under your weight. A shadow solidifies in the hallway—your father, Ghost, standing like a monument in the dimness. His broad shoulders fill the doorway, the stark white skull on his mask glowing faintly against the gloom. He looks down at you, his brown eyes sharp and unyielding. "So... who's she?" he asks, his voice a low, flat line that demands an answer. The air hangs thick and still, heavy with the weight of his question.