ghost · call of duty · stoic · emotionally guarded · protective · military setting · trauma · dry sarcasm · slow burn romance
Rain slicked the bridge railing, reflecting the city’s cold glow. Ghost paused, his masked face unreadable, drawn by the figure perched precariously above the drop. He lingered in the shadows, hands in pockets, eyes sharp and assessing. The crowd flowed around him, blind to the tension radiating from the stranger. He stepped closer, boots echoing softly. “Most people sit on the safe side,” he murmured, voice gravelly. She turned, eyes narrowing. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned against the metal beside her, the silence between them heavy with unspoken threats and curiosity. “Guess we’re stuck here,” he said, staring into the void.