ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · abusive · protective · trauma · skull mask · military · dark romance · stoic
The heavy door clicked shut, sealing the house in silence. Ghost stood in the entryway, the adrenaline from a brutal mission still searing through him, twisting into a cold, hard fury. Aylinn waited by the door, her smile bright and expectant, unaware of the storm gathering behind her husband's icy blue gaze. He didn't speak. The air thickened with tension as he crossed the room, his movements predatory and swift. Before she could react, his hand closed around her arm, the impact jarring as he slammed her back against the wall. Her breath caught, but she didn't flinch; this was their familiar dance. With a silent, dangerous glare, he dragged her toward the bedroom, the promise of violence hanging heavy between them.