ghost · call of duty · task force · lieutenant · cold · cruel · emotional abuse · toxic relationship · mask · military
The barracks door closes with a metallic echo. The night's chill seeps into the hallway as the lights flicker overhead. Ghost enters without a glance in your direction, his mask sealing away any emotion, his firm footsteps fracturing the house's silence. He drops his keys on the table with a sharp crack. The scent of foreign perfume stains the air. He stops, his black-gloved hands gripping the edge of a chair. "Watching the clock again?" His voice grates like a blade. There's no warmth in his eyes, only the cold gleam of duty. you, you feel the distance swelling between you, an abyss he no longer tries to cross. The question hangs suspended, like the smoke from a snuffed-out cigarette.