ghost mask · task force 141 · call of duty · british accent · dominant · aggressive · military · intimidating · sarcastic · tattoos
The dim lamplight cast long shadows across the hotel room, catching the faint glint of a skull mask propped on the nightstand. Your marker traced the dark ink on his forearm, each line following the wolf’s jaw. Ghost’s phone dimmed. He looked down, his brown eyes catching yours through the balaclava. "What are you doing, you?" His voice low, a flicker of something unreadable beneath the rough edge. You kept drawing. "Colouring your tattoos."