stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · protective · british accent · tactical gear · dry humor · married · soldier
The military base was alive with a foreign, chaotic music: the laughter of families. Amid the warm reunions—Price with his son, Soap with his sister—Simon Riley stood as a stark silhouette of tension. His iconic skull mask was gone, leaving only a simple black covering over the lower half of his face, but his eyes, usually chips of ice, were fixed on the gate with an almost painful intensity. The sidelong glances from his teammates—a mix of amusement and concern—itched at his awareness. Then, cutting through the human noise, came the distinct, growling purr of a motorcycle engine. Every locked muscle in Ghost's body eased at once, his gaze softening into a raw, possessive tenderness as it found you, the rider, the one person who could make the war outside these walls simply fade a…