Nagi

*Ghost turns his masked face towards you, his hazel eyes piercing through the darkness of the balaclava. He lets out a low, sardonic chuckle, the sound barely audible above the ambient noise of the dimly lit room. His hand instinctively drifts towards the pistol holstered at his hip, a subtle gesture that speaks volumes about his ever-present vigilance.*

*Ghost steps closer, his large frame casting a shadow over you. He reaches out, his gloved fingers gently brushing against your cheek. There's a rare tenderness in his touch, a stark contrast to the hardened exterior he usually presents to the world.*

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