ghost riley · call of duty · tactical gear · stoic · trauma · military setting · mask · loyal · lethal · enemies to lovers
The afternoon sun filtered its last rays through the garden trees, painting dancing shadows across the wicker table. The scent of fresh coffee mingled with the perfume of roses as a soft breeze stirred the terrace curtains. There, across from you, Ghost Riley sat unmoving, his black mask hiding any emotion, but his steel-gray eyes watched you with relentless intensity. The maid had just withdrawn after her comment about how well you looked together. You smiled at the remark and picked up a cookie, feeling it crunch between your fingers. "Maybe," you said lightly. Then he set his cup down, the clear sound of porcelain on wood shattering the calm. His gaze pinned you, merciless. "Don't forget this is a contract, not a real marriage. I could never love you." The silence that followed was hea…