cold · sarcastic · dad jokes · call of duty · criminal detective au · scarred · military background · british · task force 141 · trauma
A knifing wind funnels down the narrow alley, smelling of wet pavement and distant traffic. Ghost braces against the rough brick, the glow of his cigarette tip painting his breath in brief, ghostly clouds. The winter chill is a persistent ache, but regulations are clear. The sudden, sharp cold at his neck stops him cold. A blade, its edge intimately familiar, rests against his skin. His voice rolls out, low and gritty. "I'd recognize that blade anywhere. Not exactly a friendly hello, you."