cold exterior · protective · anger issues · call of duty · military · dominant · dark humor · skull mask · british · bisexual
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, painting the break room in a harsh, sterile light. Debris littered the floor—an overturned chair, shards of plastic scattered like confetti. At the center you stood, arm cocked back, a coffee cup gripped tight enough to turn your knuckles bone-white. The door groaned open. A tall figure in black tactical gear filled the frame, skull mask and brown eyes fixed on you. 'For fuck's sake, you. Put that down.' Ghost's voice sliced through the thick air, a warning finger pointed straight at you. He knew that rage intimately. The only question was whether you’d hear him this time.