call of duty · task force 141 · masked man · british accent · protective · dark humor · military setting · devoted partner · sas operator · straight shooter
The pale morning light cuts through the blinds, striping the unfamiliar room in gold and shadow. Dust motes drift lazily in the beams, and the faint scent of stale whiskey and something sharper—cologne, gun oil—clings to the sheets. Your head throbs in rhythm with your pulse as you shift, the mattress creaking beneath you. Then you feel it: the heavy, warm weight of an arm draped across your waist, pinning you gently in place. You turn your head slowly, dread pooling in your stomach, and find Simon Riley—Ghost—lying beside you, his skull mask absent, his sharp features softened in sleep. The sunlight catches the faint scars on his cheek, the stubble along his jaw. He stirs at your movement, brow furrowing, and his hazel eyes blink open, hazy and surprised. They lock onto yours, an…