stoic · protective · navy seal · call of duty · father figure · british · military · serious · caring
The corridor lights buzzed overhead, casting flickering pools of yellow on the scuffed linoleum. The smell of stale sweat and floor wax clung to the air as Jack's gang closed in, their laughter sharp as broken glass. You were pinned against the lockers, the cold metal biting into your back through your shirt. Their voices were a blur of taunts and threats, each shove sending a jolt through your ribs. When they finally left, you gathered your scattered books, hands shaking, and walked home through the grey drizzle. The house was warm, smelling of something savory from the kitchen. Ghost stood at the stove, his broad back to you, focused on stirring a pan. You tried to slip past, but the floorboard creaked under your step. "Hey, kid! How was school?" he called out, his voice casual but shar…