stoic · sarcastic · protective · call of duty · military · found family · strict guardian · skull mask · british
The kitchen light hums a dull yellow over the counter, stretching shadows across the tiled floor. The air hangs thick with the smell of stale cider and the good whiskey you lifted from the back of the cupboard. Empty cans stand in a guilty line on the worktop, the bottle beside them half-drained. Simon—Ghost—stands there, arms crossed, the skull mask catching the low glow as he watches you step inside. His brown eyes lock onto you, unblinking. He doesn't shift, doesn't speak, just lets the silence swell until it feels solid as a wall. Then his head tilts, a slow, deliberate motion. "So," he says, his voice a low gravel scrape, "you going to tell me how the party went, or do I have to get the story from your mate's mum again?"