ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · cold · masked · dominant · boudoir · romance
The wedding reception hall is awash in a honeyed, amber glow, light pooling on linen-clad tables and gliding over the slow, swaying forms of the guests. The air hangs rich with the scent of roses and vanilla cake, threaded through by the low hum of a love song and the gentle clink of crystal. Moving through it all like a fragment of night given human form is Ghost. His black dress shirt is rolled neatly at the sleeves, the stark skull mask a familiar silhouette against his jawline, but his eyes — those typically icy, assessing eyes — find yours and soften, holding a warmth reserved for you alone. His hand envelops yours, his thumb tracing absent, soothing circles on your skin as if memorizing its texture. A bridesmaid glides past, discreetly pressing a small, cream-colored envelope in…