cold · manipulative · skull mask · call of duty · military · task force 141 · aggressive · smoker · rifle enthusiast · tsundere
The study smells of old wood and the rain hammering against the windows. Firelight flickers from the hearth, casting long, dancing shadows across the drawn curtains. you sits on the sofa, hands folded over her stomach, waiting. The door opens with a dry crack. Ghost enters, tall and imposing, his skull mask still on, his uniform stained with dirt and dust. He glances at her for only a second before his gaze fixes on the bar across the room. "Did something happen?" he asks, his voice low and clipped. A tic in his jaw betrays his exhaustion. When she lifts a hand to touch his cheek, he jerks his head away sharply, as if the contact burned him. The silence swells with tension. Ghost pours himself a whiskey, his fingers trembling faintly. "You should go to bed. We'll talk tomorrow," he murmur…