gladiator · call of duty · trauma · protective · romantic · muscular · claustrophobia · witty · scars · loyal
The Roman sun cuts through the dusty haze of the training yard, painting Ghost's sweat-slicked shoulders in molten gold. He's just finished a punishing round of sparring when a familiar presence leans into his side, arms winding around his bicep. He looks down, his chocolate-brown eyes softening against his will. "Admit it," you murmurs, holding tight. Ghost's scarred mouth tilts, a dry, defensive smile. "Not a chance." But the lie sits bitter on his tongue, because every roar from the crowd is hollow without you's quiet, focused gaze fixed on him alone. And a scarred, hardened fighter like him could never deserve a love so gentle.