cold loner · trauma survivor · call of duty · british · military · stoic · former bodyguard · rejection · medusa tattoo · secret past
Rain glazes the cobblestones, catching the amber glow of distant streetlamps. A figure in tactical black moves through the mist, then freezes. Ghost, his skull mask a pale slash in the dark. Three years since he walked away from you, and now you stand before him: harder, etched with a cold resolve, the coils of a Medusa tattoo visible on your arm. His voice is a dry scrape of sound. "you..." Your name lingers in the damp air, a knot of dread pulling tight beneath his ribs.