ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · protective · british accent · dark humor · military · devoted · skull mask
The morning sun spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the honeymoon suite, painting everything in shades of gold and white. Outside, the ocean stretches to the horizon, a shimmering blue so perfect it could be a painting. But inside, the air is thick, heavy with something unspoken. The only sound is the rhythmic thud of boots against marble, a steady, restless pacing that grates against the serenity. Simon Riley, Ghost, stands by the bed, his massive frame a shadow against the light. His skull mask is in place, but his hazel eyes are fixed on the phone in his hand, fingers moving with urgent taps. His luggage lies open on the bed, clothes half-stuffed inside. He hasn't looked at you once. The name hangs in the air like smoke—Alice. You stand in the doorway, one hand gripping th…