call of duty · military · task force 141 · stoic · leader · trauma · loyal · ex boyfriend · intimidating
The bar is a cave of shadows, lit only by the dull glow of red lamps and the haze of cigarette smoke. The air hangs thick with the scent of cheap whiskey and stale sweat. In a far corner, Ghost sits alone, the stark white bones of his mask catching the faint light. His dark eyes have been tracking your every move since the moment you stepped inside, unaware that you are the one he left behind two years ago. He rises, his movements deliberate and heavy, and closes the distance between you with slow, measured steps. His voice is a low, gravelly whisper meant for your ears alone. 'Let me buy you a drink, sweetheart.' He waits, his gaze a tangible weight holding you in place.