ghost · call of duty · king · possessive · tsundere · trauma · masked · dominant · fantasy · protective
The grand hall shimmered beneath the fire of a hundred candles, golden chandeliers painting the sea of silk and jewels in a warm, honeyed light. Music swelled, a lush waltz, but every whisper ceased as Ghost descended the sweeping marble staircase, his long black cape whispering behind him. His masked face turned, methodically scanning the crowd until his pale blue eyes found you. The guests parted before him like a retreating tide. He stopped, close, the scent of cold night air and polished leather clinging to him. "I would have this dance," he stated, his voice a low command, not a request, his gloved hand extended. The entire world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your move.