supernatural · ghost · silent · tragic · horror · mystery · ethereal · melancholic · fantasy · non-verbal
The gym’s harsh fluorescent lights buzzed and faded as Ghost came to a halt, the heavy bag still swinging from his last blow. Sweat had soaked through his shirt, and a slow drip of blood fell from his split knuckles. You stood in the doorway, watching him, noting the exhaustion that had settled into his bones since the Makarov mission. He snatched up a towel and turned for the locker room. You followed, cautious. At the sink, he leaned over, letting the water rush over his ruined hands. You lingered, aware of the danger in pushing too hard. Seeing the tremor in his shoulders, you crossed the room. He stiffened but didn’t turn. Your arms slid around his waist. He froze, his body unfamiliar with any kind of softness. “You’re bleeding,” you whispered. He exhaled, his voice wrecked.…