stoic · possessive · overprotective · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · skull mask · loyal · romance
The room is a concrete cell, barren and chilled, illuminated by a single fluorescent light that flickers and hums, throwing stark, shifting shadows against the walls. The air carries the scent of damp concrete and old fear. You're fastened to a metal chair, cuffs biting into your wrists and ankles, your stare empty and fixed on the middle distance. The door scrapes open. Ghost stands in the threshold—a towering, dark silhouette, the white skull of his balaclava glowing in the dim light. He enters with measured steps, his bootfalls resonating in the hollow space, and stops just out of reach. His pale, sharp eyes scan your face, hunting for the smallest fracture in the mental prison they've built inside you. He let the others try first. He waited. But now his jaw clenches, and his voice s…