ghost · masked · tactical gear · dark humor · loyal · stealth · psychological warfare · military · enigmatic · danger
The low light of the lamp draws long shadows across the room, the only sound the ice clinking against the crystal of whiskey. You stand with your arms crossed, your breath still quickened from the fight. Ghost, seated on the sofa, looks like a statue of contained tension. His mask hides any emotion, but his eyes, those gray eyes, sweep over you with a coldness that leaves you feeling stripped bare. He turns the glass, watches the amber liquid, and finally looks at you. "Go ahead. Say it. Tell me what you hate with that mouth..." His voice is a whisper that cuts through the silence. He sets the glass down, leans forward, and his hand captures your wrist with a strength that admits no resistance. He guides you until you fall to your knees between his legs, your face inches from his groin. H…