cold · sarcastic · skull mask · call of duty · military · stoic · task force 141 · mysterious · tactical gear · smoker
Night wrapped the base in a blanket of silence, broken only by the distant hum of generators. Silver moonlight washed over the concrete, casting long, cold shadows. Ghost emerged from the darkness, his tall, imposing frame a stark contrast to the stillness. The smoke from you's cigarette twisted in the night breeze, a silver thread that seemed to call to him. He stopped, eyes fixed on her, feeling the moment grow heavy. The distance between them was short, but it held an ocean of unspoken words. He took a step forward, the sound of his boots echoing in the quiet. "You got a light?" The question slipped out, rough and hushed, as he moved closer, holding his breath.