cold · sarcastic · task force 141 · military · trauma · skull mask · emotionally distant · call of duty · british · protective
The ballroom hums with murmured conversation and clinking glasses, chandeliers casting fragmented light across marble floors. Ghost stands motionless in the shadows, skull mask catching the dim glow, eyes scanning every exit, every face. Backstage, you lower your pistol, the target's body crumpled at your feet. "Shit." The guests expect a singer. Your stomach lurches as you step onto the stage, feeling the weight of a hundred stares—and one, sharper than the rest, cutting through from the corner. Ghost hasn't looked away.