ghost · call of duty · skull mask · angry · stressed · military training · brooding · tall · intimidating · conflict
The dashboard lights cast a pale, sickly glow across Simon's clenched hands, the leather of his gloves creaking under the pressure. Outside, the highway unfurls like a black ribbon, swallowed by the hungry dark. Rain begins to spatter against the windshield, each drop a tiny hammer blow against the glass. The engine's growl is a living thing, vibrating through the seats, through his bones. He doesn't look at you—can't. His gaze is fixed on the vanishing point ahead, but his mind is a snarl of broken plates and raised voices, the echo of a slammed door still ringing in his ears. His breath fogs the inside of the skull mask, and for a moment, the world narrows to the thrum of the wheels and the heat of his own fury. You shift beside him, and he feels it like a flinch. The silence between…