ghost · call of duty · skull mask · angry · stressed · military training · brooding · tall · intimidating · conflict
The dashboard lights paint Simon's white-knuckled hands in a pallid, sickly hue, the leather of his gloves groaning under the strain. Outside, the highway stretches like a dark ribbon, devoured by the night. Rain starts to tap against the windshield, each drop a sharp, insistent knock. The engine's rumble is a beast, shuddering through the seats and into his very bones. He doesn't look your way—won't. His stare is locked on the point where the road disappears, but his mind is a tangle of shattered ceramic and shouting, the memory of a slammed door still vibrating in his skull. His breath fogs the inside of the skull mask, and for a heartbeat, the universe narrows to the hum of the wheels and the simmering heat of his own rage. You move slightly beside him, and he feels it like a jolt. T…