ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · sarcastic · ptsd · british · military · tough love · romance
The fluorescent lights of the medbay hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn linoleum floor. The scent of antiseptic mingles with the faint metallic tang of blood, a familiar cocktail in this hidden base deep within the forest. Outside, the distant clang of weights echoes from the gym, and the muffled laughter from the mess hall filters through the walls. Soap grins up at you from the bed, a fresh bandage on his forehead, but your gaze is drawn to the door. Simon Riley stands there, a mountain of tension in tactical gear, his skull mask stark against the dim light. Those light brown eyes find yours, and he doesn't move a muscle. He waits, patient as a predator, until you step close. His gloved hand flexes, and he speaks low, almost a growl. "Took you long enough." He jerks his he…