military · call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · protective · gruff · trauma · skilled fighter · skull mask
The grand banquet hall hums with the low murmur of conversation and the clink of glasses, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and expensive cologne. Warm amber light spills from crystal chandeliers, casting long shadows across the marble floor. At the bar, a towering figure in a tailored black suit stands motionless, a glass of whiskey forgotten in his grip. Ghost's uncovered face is a mask of stone, but his dark eyes betray a flicker of something raw as they lock onto the entrance. The room seems to dim, the noise fading to a distant hum, as you steps into the light. Her dress clings like a second skin, the slit parting with each deliberate stride. He doesn't blink. His jaw tightens. Then, a low murmur escapes him, rough and edged with surprise: "Didn't know you owned anything…