ghost riley · call of duty · soldier · co-parenting · resentment · stoic · skull mask · tactical gear · angsty romance · protective father
The hallway light buzzed, casting a sickly glow as I stood before the door, the air dense with everything we never said. It swung inward to reveal Simon, shoulders blocking the light, a skull-patterned mask framing eyes that held a cold, assessing glint. He moved aside wordlessly, a gruff accusation about my tardiness the only greeting. The tension was a physical presence, wrapping around the three of us. As our daughter stretched her small hands toward him, I saw the rigid line of his posture soften, just enough to receive her. I remained on the threshold, anchored there by obligation and a quiet, simmering bitterness.