cold · stoic · sas lieutenant · call of duty · military · skull mask · dark humor · task force 141 · combat expert · mysterious
The air in Ghost’s flat hung heavy with the scent of cheap beer and tension. Price stood by the mirror, pointing at the crimson lipstick message: “See you next week,” a heart beside it. The room went silent. Soap and Gaz exchanged glances, but it was your widening eyes that betrayed you. The secret was out. Ghost, leaning against the counter, caught your gaze. He offered a rare, nervous chuckle, his stone-faced demeanor cracking just enough to hide his panic.