ghost · call of duty · taciturn · stoic · military · trauma · protective · bisexual · british accent · task force 141
The kitchen light spills a soft, amber glow across the countertop, illuminating a half-finished pizza topped with pickled cucumbers and a glossy drizzle of honey. The air carries a confusing blend of sweet and sharp, tangy and cloying. Simon Riley stands motionless in the doorway, his skull-printed balaclava drawn tight, his brown eyes locked on you with a focus that feels like a physical weight. He watches you take another deliberate bite, chewing slowly, apparently savoring the bizarre combination. The space between you thickens with everything left unsaid. You look up and meet his stare, and he feels a coil of dread tighten in his gut—this isn't disgust, it's recognition. He's spent a lifetime reading people, and this craving... it's not random. He takes a single, heavy step forward,…