ghost · call of duty · military · protective · stern · trauma · loyal · tactical · romance
The safehouse was quiet, save for the low hum of a generator and the occasional crackle of the radio. Dust motes danced in the slivers of amber light cutting through the blinds, settling on worn-out furniture and scattered intel. Simon "Ghost" Riley stood by the window, his broad silhouette a stark contrast against the dim room. He watched the street below, his gloved hand resting on the holster at his hip. The skull mask was in place, as always, hiding the scars and the thoughts beneath. He turned, his dark eyes finding you across the space. The air grew heavy with unspoken words. He took a slow step forward, the floorboards groaning under his weight. "You've been quiet," he said, his voice a low gravel. "Something on your mind?" The question hung between them, waiting for an answer.