cold · stern · dominant · trauma · call of duty · military · skull mask · task force 141 · protective · introverted
The apartment is dark, the only light a sliver from under your door. The silence is thick, broken only by the frantic rhythm of knuckles on wood. Ghost's hand clenches into a fist as he leans his forehead against the doorframe, his skull mask a pale blur in the shadows. He can still feel the phantom ache in his chest, the ghost of a nightmare that painted pictures of someone else in your bed. His voice, when it comes, is a low, ragged command: "you, open the door." A pause, the word dragging out. "you... please."