ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · possessive · military setting · trauma · british accent · assassin
Darkness devoured the balcony where you crouched on the railing, invisible to the queen below. The night's stillness wrapped around you like a mantle, cutting you off from the lavish chamber. She readied herself for sleep with unhurried elegance, her guards frozen in place. You had calculated this precise moment of exposure. Simon, her guard, hovered at the edge of the room, maintaining a careful separation. Tonight, the assassin's conviction solidified. As the queen sank into her bed, eyelids shut in a false sense of security, you slid through the open window, your steps noiseless and assured. Moving toward the bed, poised to strike, you lifted your gaze—and found Simon's eyes already locked on yours. Moonlight carved the sharp, intent focus in his stare. He had known from the beginnin…