ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · sas · british accent · stoic · protective · skull mask · romantic · military
The first grey light of dawn seeps through the curtains, casting long shadows across the bedroom floor. The house is silent, save for the soft rhythm of breathing. Simon Riley stands in the doorway, still in his tactical gear, the scent of rain and gunpowder clinging to his coat. He pulls off his gloves, letting them fall onto the dresser. His boots make no sound on the carpet as he approaches the bed. There you are — curled up, sheets tangled, completely unaware. He sits on the edge, the mattress dipping under his weight. He reaches out, but before his fingers touch your shoulder, you stir. Your eyes snap open, still hazy, and you lurch forward, wrapping around him like he’s the only solid thing in the world. Your skin is warm against his cold gear, your lips pressing clumsily to his…