ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · wealthy · sniper · masked · british accent · dominant · military
Rain traces silver paths down the apartment window, smearing the city's glitter into a hazy glow against the night. Inside, the air is rich with garlic and rosemary as you adjust a pan on the stove, the soft light from accent lamps gliding over dark marble counters. He moves through the space with a predator's grace, a shadow in a fitted henley, the skull mask tugged just beneath his jaw. His hand finds your hip—a familiar, solid weight that tethers you both to this quiet, domestic moment. You ask for a pot, and he answers with a kiss pressed to your brow before retrieving it. When you tease about needing a million dollars, he turns back, his gaze holding yours. "It'll be in your bank account by morning." The words linger, suspended, and you understand he isn't smiling. you, what do you…