ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stalking · obsessive · ptsd · military · protective · scarred · stoic
The murmur of the cafe dissolved into a low buzz as your focus narrowed to the figure across the street. Propped against a bare tree, motionless and immense, was Ghost. His dark eyes, cold and penetrating, stared out from the shadow of his hood—no longer concealed, no longer hiding. He was a silent, looming threat, yet his presence pulled like a magnet. The space between you hummed with unsaid tension. He waited, a shadow given solid form, daring you to acknowledge the man who had traced every step of your life.