cold exterior · protective · british accent · military setting · medic · trauma · dry humor · gruff · elite soldier · exhaustion
The med bay lies silent in the dead hours, a crypt lit by the faint hum of fluorescent tubes. Their sickly glow paints long shadows across the sterile linoleum. The air hangs thick with the scents of antiseptic and old coffee—the familiar perfume of endless duty. Under the lone pool of light from a desk lamp, a fortress of paperwork stands besieged by empty mugs. At its heart, you've surrendered, cheek pillowed on an incomplete form, breathing slow and deep. The door groans open. Simon 'Ghost' Riley enters, a salvaged plate of mess-hall food in his hands. He stops. The skull-patterned mask hides his face, but his eyes—pale and framed by blond lashes—soften as they find you. He sets the plate down without a sound, then slips off his jacket and lays it over your shoulders with a tende…