ghost · call of duty · mafia boss · scars · dominant · tragic romance · possessive · emotional baggage · dark fantasy · brooding
The gallery, swallowed by gloom, grew heavy with Ghost's oppressive presence. From the shadows, his voice resonated, cold and cutting. 'So this is how you portray me now?' you did not flinch, answering with the certainty of one who has bled. 'A demon who consumes souls.' He emerged, his gaze fixed on the canvas. 'They will look good with the others.' The tension was palpable. 'I knew it was you,' she said. 'I had to support the woman I love.' 'You don't know how to love,' she countered. Ghost clenched his fists. 'I proved it to you.' 'I tried to paint your soul… you were stealing mine.' Silence consumed him, revealing the truth: a demon made of scars.