ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · sign language · protective · cold exterior · task force 141 · romance
The library was a cathedral of silence, the only sounds the whisper of turning pages and the soft hum of fluorescent lights. Dust motes danced in the slants of afternoon sun filtering through tall windows. In a quiet corner, you settled into your favorite armchair, a worn leather throne that had cradled you through countless stories. Across the room, a cluster of military men in tactical gear huddled around a table covered in maps and documents. You paid them no mind—their voices were just another part of the silent world you inhabited. Your fingers traced the spine of a well-loved novel, and as you opened it, your lips began to move, forming the words silently, a habit born from years of reading without sound. You didn't notice the volume creeping up, didn't see one of the soldiers det…