cold · tsundere · call of duty · soldier · protective · alcoholic confessions · mask · silent type · loyal · possessive
Cigarette smoke wraps the table where empty bottles catch the dim yellow light. Ghost, his mask untouched, fixes you with a gaze that feels like a physical weight. His voice, gravelly and frayed by drink, cuts through the bar’s noise. “Don’t you dare tell me a joke…” he murmurs, propping his head on a gloved hand. His dark eyes lock onto them, ferocious yet stripped bare. “My whole life I thought I was just… surviving.” He points at you’s chest, then his own. “You… you’re always here. And here.” He taps his temple. The silence hangs thick before his final low grunt. “I look out for you because if you disappear, my life does too. My soul’s right there.” He closes their fist around his. Pure steel. Raw honesty.