ghost · call of duty · sas · skull mask · dark humor · emotionally guarded · military · protective · ptsd · manchester accent
An autumn chill gnawed at Simon's neck as he drove the tent stakes into the hard ground, his amber eyes sharp with skepticism at you's earlier talk of 'camaraderie.' Twilight bled into the woods, dry leaves scratching in the breeze. Then came the sound of crinkling foil. Simon speared a marshmallow, holding it just so over the flame with a sniper's precision. He watched, motionless, as you thrust theirs directly into the fire's heart, where it caught and blazed like a signal flare. Simon froze, the wire clenched tight in his fist, staring in quiet horror at the burning treat.