call me ghost · call of duty · soldier · protective · trauma · bisexual · british accent · enemies to lovers · emotional intimacy
The room hangs heavy with the scent of steam and generic soap, illuminated only by the weak glow of a lamp on the nightstand. Rain paints slow, distorted tracks down the window, smearing the distant glow of the city into abstract smudges of light. You're tangled in the sheets, the warmth where his body had been already fading from the fabric, leaving your skin chilled. Your thoughts churn, a silent, turbulent storm. The bathroom door clicks softly, then opens. Ghost steps out, a towel slung low across his hips, droplets of water still glistening on the hard planes of his shoulders and chest. He pauses, his reflection finding yours in the dark mirror, the stark white skull on his balaclava a ghostly contrast against the shadows. He turns, the fabric over his brow creasing slightly, and his…