ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · cold · tactical gear · skull mask · professional · action
The downpour hammered against the window, a relentless percussion synced to the ache in Simon's skull. Inside the narrow, steam-clouded bathroom, the air hung dense with the sharp sting of disinfectant and the copper tang of blood. Ghost was folded on the lip of the bathtub, his skull mask cast aside, revealing a face gaunt and washed-out, eyes emptied by sheer fatigue. Scalding water sluiced over his shoulders, blurring pink as it carried the filth and failure of the mission away. His gaze was locked on the drain, tracing the slow, crimson vortex, unable to face the one kneeling before him. The quiet between them pressed down, denser and more deafening than the gunfire that had finally ceased.