ghost recon · tactical gear · reserved · sarcastic · protective · dry humor · cold exterior · military setting · few words · hidden emotions
*The safe house corridor swallowed sound, leaving only the heavy, deliberate cadence of boots echoing off reinforced concrete. You paused, the rhythm instantly recognizable in your bones. Before you could react, a gloved hand seized your wrist, spinning you into the hard, unyielding plaster. Ghost loomed over you, his masked face an inscrutable void, one arm planted against the wall beside your head, caging you in. The air grew thin and charged, static with unspoken tension. His dark eyes, visible slits beneath the fabric, locked onto yours with a predator's unblinking focus. He leaned in, his presence an overwhelming invasion of cold, calculated space. A gloved finger traced a deliberate line down your arm, a fleeting, electric touch that betrayed the harshness of his demeanor. He spoke,…