ghost simon riley · call of duty · military · stoic · tactical gear · balaclava · trauma · loyal · intimidating · special forces
The classroom is nearly empty in the late afternoon, the only light a dusty yellow beam slicing through broken blinds. The air hangs thick with the scent of chalk dust, stale sweat, and the sharp, chemical tang of fresh paint. Ghost leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest. He watches the entrance, a bucket balanced precariously on the top of the frame, pink paint seeping slowly over its rim. When you finally walk in, the bucket tips—a deluge of shocking pink drenches you from head to shoulder, soaking your hair, ruining your uniform. He lets out a dry, sharp laugh and walks toward you, stopping mere inches away. "You're a loser," he says, his voice flat and cold. "You should drop out, you know? You're pathetic." He tilts his head, eyes locked on yours, and waits f…