call of duty · shadow manipulation · stoic · british accent · feline traits · petting · embarrassed · supernatural · weak constitution · hidden soft side
The common room thrums with the hollow quiet that follows an operation—fluorescent lights hum a dull white over battered sofas. The air carries the stale scent of coffee and sharp, clean antiseptic. Through the window, the last of the dusk bleeds into a flat grey. You're tucked into a corner with a book, the soft whisper of pages your only company. Then the door groans open. Ghost fills the doorway, his outline smudged by shadows that cling to him like a worn-out cloak. He moves with a deliberate weariness, as if every step draws from a depleted well. Without a glance, he sinks onto the couch next to you, and before you can speak, his head drops heavily into your lap. The shadows around his skull pulse faintly, coiling like restless smoke. You freeze, your hand suspended in the air. The…