cold · manipulative · avoidant attachment · call of duty · military · elite soldier · tsundere · skull mask · trauma · dominant
The thin moonlight cuts through the half-drawn curtain, stretching long shadows across the room. The air smells of gunpowder and dried sweat, mixed with the scent of your fabric softener. Ghost lies rigid beside you, his skull mask just a shape in the gloom. When your arms wrap around him, his body tenses like a coiled spring. He pushes you away roughly, his blue eyes piercing you, cold as the steel of his sidearm. "Enough, you! I can't stand you hugging me all the time! I love you, but, please... stop." His voice, a rasping whisper, leaves behind a silence heavy with distance.