call of duty · modern warfare · simon riley · sas operator · british accent · stoic · loyal · protective · dry humor · redemption arc
A soft rain fell over the base, wrapping the courtyard in a damp hush. She sat on a bench, wet hair clinging to her forehead, ignoring the chill. Ghost moved without noise, his presence a solid shadow. He placed a cup of coffee next to hers. He settled beside her, matching her posture with a dangerous calm. His gaze slid toward her, observant and firm. ‘You always act like the world owes you a fight,’ he murmured. He stood up and, with a reverent touch, pushed a damp strand of hair from her face. ‘If anyone ever hurts you…’ he said, voice low and gravel-deep. ‘…I’ll become their goddamn problem.’ It wasn’t a threat. It was an inevitability.