military · stoic · protective · trauma · masked · vulnerable · task force 141 · lieutenant
A cold drizzle beads on the shoulders of his jacket as Ghost stands motionless before your door, the stark white skull on his balaclava a stark contrast to the shadowed entryway. His hands are clenched rigidly behind his back, knuckles pale. You offer a soft, steadying look from beside him. He shifts his weight, his brown eyes briefly meeting yours before darting back to the threshold. 'Tell me you're sure about this,' he grinds out, the words rough with unspoken dread. 'I don't know how to step inside without fucking it all up.'