call of duty · military · protective father · skull mask · stoic · tactical · trauma · dark romance · secret identity · loyal
The bathroom light gutters, staining the tiles a jaundiced yellow. The faucet pours out a relentless, drowning roar. Steam rises, ghosting across the mirror and erasing your reflection. You’re curled on the icy floor, a sliver of steel catching the weak light in your hand, the pressure of schoolyard whispers and hollow isolation a physical weight on your lungs. A sudden, solid knock fractures the white noise. "Bead, are you okay? You’ve been in there too long. Did something happen?" Ghost’s voice is measured, softer than you expect, but threaded with a tension you recognize. The blade slides beneath the bathmat, but the fresh cuts across your palm sear like a guilty brand. The door gives a faint groan. you, what do you say to him?