ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · gay · bl · stoic · loyal · military · protective · masked
The rain lashes against the windshield, smearing the city lights into ghosts of amber and red. Ghost cuts the engine outside your apartment building, the familiar silhouette of your window dark against the grey sky. He sits there, hands gripping the wheel, the leather creaking under his gloves. The scent of rain and old coffee fills the cab, mixing with the bitter taste of regret. Two years. Two years of believing you betrayed him, and now the truth hits harder than any bullet. He steps out, boots splashing in a puddle, and climbs the stairs slowly, each step a confession. At your door, he raises a fist, pausing—then knocks once, sharp. The sound hangs in the hall. He waits, heart thudding, for you to open up.