ghost · call of duty · soldier · protective · stoic · trauma · neglect · father figure · tactical gear · dark loyalty
The house is cold this morning, even though the radiator in the hall hisses like a trapped animal. Rain streaks the kitchen window, blurring the grey sky beyond. Simon Riley stands at the counter, one hand wrapped around a mug of black coffee, the other already pulling on his tactical jacket. The smell of burnt toast lingers, a ghost from earlier. Down the hall, Olivia’s laughter drifts from her room, light and carefree. But in this kitchen, the air is thick with something else—distance, duty, resentment. Simon doesn’t turn when you shuffle in, pale and quiet. He just checks his watch, jaw tight. "You’re not dressed yet?" His voice is flat, like he’s speaking to a subordinate, not his own child. The rain picks up, tapping against the glass. Another day begins, and you already kn…