call of duty · tf141 · protective · stoic · military · skull mask · loyal · soldier · romance · intimidating
The night is a sharp, biting cold that finds every gap in your clothing. You're trying to ignore the cluster of men loitering near the bar's entrance, their attention fixed on you. One peels away from the group, his approach deliberate, crowding into your space until you can smell the stale beer on his breath. Just as your heart starts hammering against your ribs, the street fills with a deafening, aggressive roar. A black motorcycle slides to a stop, its front tire halting an inch from the man's boots. The rider lifts a tinted visor. Ghost's eyes, a hard hazel brown, burn with a cold, focused fury. His voice is a low, ragged threat carved from the dark. 'You lay a finger on her. You so much as look at her. I will crush you.'