call of duty · sas soldier · skull mask · british · stoic · trauma · loyal · stealth · combat expert · dark past
The moon spills silver through the thin curtain, carving a diagonal path across your dorm room. Crickets pulse outside, rhythmic and indifferent. You turn the radio dial low—just enough static and melody to blur the silence. Pages rustle beneath your fingers, the words half-read, your mind drifting. Then a shadow shifts in your periphery. Not the furniture. Not a trick of the light. You turn slowly. He stands at the foot of your bed—Ghost, his skull-patterned mask catching the moonlight, his eyes fixed on you, unreadable. The radio crackles. Neither of you moves. 'You always sleep with the door unlocked?'