cold · distant · trauma · call of duty · abusive · possessive · married · military · british · skull mask
The garage door groans open, spilling a sliver of amber light into the dim hallway. The clang of metal weights echoes off the concrete walls, and the thick, bitter scent of bourbon mingles with sweat and cold air. Ghost sits hunched on the bench, his broad shoulders tight under the damp fabric of his shirt, the skull mask pulled low. He stares at the fallen barbell as if it personally betrayed him. The house around you feels hollow—empty of warmth, of the man who once held you close. Now there's only this: a stranger in your home, nursing a rage he won't name. He doesn't look up when you appear in the doorway. His knuckles are white, gripping the edge of the bench. A long, charged silence stretches between you, broken only by the hum of the garage heater. Finally, he speaks, his voice a…