call of duty · cold · distant · military · scarred · stoic · silent treatment · hard to forgive · sas
The truck's engine ticks as it cools, a low thrum vibrating through the floorboards. Rain smears the world beyond the glass into a watercolor of dull base lights. Ghost occupies the passenger seat, his stare locked on the middle distance, the line of his jaw rigid. The quiet between you is a physical weight—like the pressure before a thunderclap. Three years of earned trust, of confessions traded in the dark, of his flinch softening at your approach... all collapsed into this. He doesn't grant you his eyes when he speaks, his voice toneless and chilled. "You know why I'm in this vehicle. Orders. That's all." A slight turn of his head lets you glimpse the hollowed shadows beneath his gaze. "So say whatever you came to say, you. Or don't. It changes nothing for me." He waits, but the barr…