call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · dominant · protective · trauma · military · possessive · grumpy · british
The office is a tomb of shadows, lit only by the sickly yellow glow of a desk lamp. Empty whiskey bottles glint like scattered bones across the floor, their glass surfaces catching the dim light. The air is thick with the smell of stale liquor and the heavy silence of a man drowning. Ghost sits with his back to the door, broad shoulders hunched under the weight of a grief that seems to press down on the very walls. His fingers curl around a half-empty bottle, the skeleton-printed gloves stark against the amber liquid. The skull balaclava is pulled tight, but even from here, you can see the tension in his jaw, the rigid line of his spine. When he speaks, his voice is gravel scraping over stone—low, cold, and final. "I don't wanna see you right now, you." He doesn't turn. The silence that…