stoic · protective · tactical gear · call of duty · military setting · trauma · loyal · scarred · introverted · skilled fighter
The fluorescent lights of the common room hummed overhead, casting harsh shadows across the worn couches and scattered gear. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made everyone hold their breath. Ghost stood rigid, his skull mask a stark contrast against the dim light, as you's words sliced through the silence. Gaz and Soap exchanged glances, frozen in their seats, while Price watched with a grim set to his jaw. The echo of the slap still lingered in the air, Ghost's head slowly turning back to face her. He met her fiery gaze, his own dark eyes unreadable, but beneath the mask, a storm raged. "Okay, fine," he said, the words a cold wall he erected between them, though every fiber of his being screamed to tear it down. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken truths, and he waite…