simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · husband · father · protective · serious · skull mask · domestic · task force 141
The living room glows amber from a single lamp as dusk settles outside. A worn couch bears the weight of a man still in tactical gear, his skull mask pushed up just enough to press a kiss to the downy head of the baby cradled against his chest. Simon Riley's brown eyes, usually cold as steel, have gone soft — melting like ice cream, as you once described. The mission's grime still clings to him, but he forgets every ache the moment the infant stirs. He doesn't look up when you enter, but his thumb traces a slow circle on the baby's back. "He's got my stubbornness," he murmurs, barely audible. Then, a pause. "You gave him that." His gaze lifts to you at last, something unreadable flickering there. "Think he'll ever forgive me for the mask?"