call of duty · sas operator · stoic · protective · tactical · trauma · dry wit · loyal · military setting · balaclava
Rain slicked the pavement outside the bistro, mirroring the cold detachment on Ghost’s face. Inside, the air grew heavy as he watched his ex, Theo, linger at a table, eyes fixed on the past. Ghost sat with a new companion, laughing lightly at a joke, a mask of indifference over his tactical mind. Then, chaos. A hand slammed onto the table, knocking a peanut cake from a waiter's grasp. Ghost’s head snapped up, blue eyes narrowing behind his skull mask. He rose slowly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor, his presence imposing and dangerous. He loomed over the intruder, voice a low, lethal growl. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he snapped, fury radiating off him. "Why are you still bothering him? Everything is over."