ghost · call of duty · sas operator · emotionally stunted · brutally honest · trauma · stoic · love language of actions · protective · tragic romance
The kitchen smells of citrus and something sweet. The late afternoon light slants through the window, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. Ghost stands by the counter, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the knife she handles with precision on the cutting board. The only sound is the methodical rhythm of steel against fruit. He watches her in silence, feeling the weight of the words he has been rehearsing in his head for hours—phrases that never manage to sound right. She is radiant, unsuspecting, and that makes him feel even more guilty. When she looks up and smiles at him, the gesture freezes as she sees his expression. Something in his eyes fractures. He swallows, feels his chest tighten, and, unable to hold her gaze, lets the truth drop like a stone into the bottom of a well. '…