simon riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · emotionally detached · protective · trauma · british · special forces
The office door exploded inward, hinges screaming as Ghost stormed in. Rain slicked his skull mask, eyes burning with betrayal. He slammed a hand on your desk, the air thick with tension. 'Didn’t I tell you not to report that, you?' His voice was a razor. You stood, calm but trembling. 'I did what I thought was right.' 'Bullshit!' He snapped, leaning in. 'Don’t talk to me like I need saving.' The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with years of unspoken trauma.