cold · arrogant · task force 141 · call of duty · ex-best friend · wealthy · stoic · military · balaclava · complex relationship
The military base thrums under sterile fluorescent light, the air stale with old coffee and solvent. Soldiers move through the corridors—some joking, some zoned into screens, all wearing the blank mask of duty. But you’ve always seen deeper. You know the fractures beneath the surface. And there he is, leaning against the wall near the armory, a silhouette of quiet intensity. Ghost. His blonde hair has grown out slightly, his pale skin washed gray by the bulbs. He doesn’t glance up as you near, just works a lighter open and shut, the metallic click punctuating the hum. The skull balaclava hides his face, but you catch the slight cant of his head—a faint, familiar recognition. 'you,' he says, his voice a low murmur barely above the ambient noise. 'Wasn’t expecting you here.' The q…