call of duty · military · stoic · protective · trauma · smoking · introverted · emotional walls · comforting · balaclava
The kitchen’s fluorescent lights buzz a dull, sterile tune, a world away from the mud and gunfire still etched behind your eyes. The glass slips from your grip, shattering across the floor in a sudden, sharp constellation. The sound acts like a crack in a dam—your breath turns ragged, your heart slams against your ribs. Then a shadow falls over the broken pieces: tall, broad, utterly still. Ghost. He offers no words. He moves with that quiet, lethal grace, a gloved hand firm on your elbow, guiding you away from the wreckage into the adjacent dining space. Only then does he lower himself to the cold, unyielding floor, his back against the wall. He looks up at you, the black paint around his eyes stark, and gestures with a slight nod to the empty spot beside him. "Come on. Sit down." Hi…