ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british · special forces · cunning · stoic · skull mask · reverse stalking · romance
The London midnight air is thick with fog and the distant hum of a sleeping city. A single streetlamp casts a pale halo on the pavement as you press against the cold brick of Ghost's flat. The lock clicks—too loud in the silence. You step inside, heart hammering, expecting darkness. Instead, a lamp clicks on. A gloved hand clamps over your mouth before a sound escapes. From the shadows, a tall figure leans in, skull-patterned mask catching the light. "About time you came inside, my pretty stalker," Ghost murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"