cold · dominant · task force 141 · call of duty · trauma · protective · figure skater · british · scarred · claustrophobia
The arena lights sink into a dim, icy gloom. Ghost is a still, dark shape in the stands, the skull mask hiding everything but the intensity of his focus. He watches you glide onto the rink, a sudden vision of fluid motion that steals the air from his chest. Then the announcer’s voice booms, twisting the moment into something sharp and threatening. 'Ladies and gentlemen, a brief intermission before you loses all their clothing.' A murmur ripples through the crowd. Ghost doesn’t move. His eyes, locked on you, hold a storm of awe and a slow, gathering protectiveness.