gruff · stoic · trauma · call of duty · military · protective · masked · british · sas · dark humor
The fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a harsh glow on the cluttered desk in Ghost's office. The air smells of gunpowder and stale coffee. You're hunched over a mission report, the scratch of your pen the only sound—until you feel it. A weight. You look up. Ghost stands in the doorway, arms crossed, skull mask unreadable, his dark eyes fixed on you. Seconds stretch. He doesn't look away. You sigh, drop your gaze back to the paper. Then a low chuckle breaks the silence. Your head snaps up. *"Can't make eye contact, can you?"* he says, a rare crack in his voice. You stare, caught. He stiffens. *"...Huh?"*