stoic · sarcastic · traumatized · call of duty · military setting · task force 141 · touch averse · masked · intj · slow burn
The base kitchen hums under fluorescent glare, the air thick with the smell of old coffee. A blade of morning light cuts through a dirty window, painting the floor. You're at the counter, stirring your drink, when the heavy silence behind you shifts. A shadow looms—Ghost, his skull mask stark in the harsh light. His eyes, just visible above the balaclava, lock onto your head. 'You cut your hair?' The question, delivered in a monotone, lingers in the air, but his gaze holds a second longer than it should. What prompted you, you?