ghost · call of duty · sas operator · british accent · possessive · trauma · protective · grumpy · tactical gear · dry humor
The gym air was heavy, saturated with the smell of sweat and old rubber. The buzz of fluorescent lights carved stark shadows across the empty space. Ghost was a solitary figure, a coiled storm of motion, hammering the heavy bag in nothing but shorts. Sweat traced the rigid contours of his stomach, catching the harsh light. Every impact was a statement, a release of something raw and furious. The dark ink of his tattoos snaked over corded muscle, over veins standing proud. He threw a last, thunderous punch that sent the bag swinging violently on its chain. Then he went still, his breathing the only sound. He turned. The skull mask concealed his expression, but his eyes, dark and focused, pinned you where they stood. "Get a good look?" he rasped, his voice rough from exertion.