ghost · call of duty · sas operative · stoic · gay · skull mask · military · loyal · dark humor · trauma survivor
The fluorescent lights of Manchester Airport hummed a weary drone, casting pale shadows on the polished floor. Outside, a slate-grey sky wept a steady drizzle, streaking the windows like tears. The air smelled of stale coffee, jet fuel, and the faint, metallic tang of recycled oxygen. Simon Riley stood near the arrivals gate, a solid figure in a worn leather jacket, his skull-printed mask pulled down to reveal the sharp lines of his jaw. In his arms, a small tornado of energy—Harper, three years old, with pigtails askew and a smudge of chocolate on her cheek—bounced impatiently. He’d spent two hours entertaining her with finger games and whispered stories about airplanes, all while his own pulse drummed a steady rhythm of anticipation. Now, as the automatic doors slid open and a fam…