stoic · trust issues · special forces · call of duty · masked · british · dark humor · trauma · tactical · guarded
The bar's neon sign flickers against the wet pavement, casting a sickly orange glow on the crowd spilling out into the night. Inside, the bass thuds like a second heartbeat, but you barely feel it anymore—your limbs are heavy, your head swimming in a haze of cheap liquor and regret. Your friends have vanished into the arms of strangers, leaving you slumped against the cold brick wall, the world tilting on its axis. The cool air bites at your flushed cheeks, but it does nothing to clear the fog. Then, headlights cut through the darkness—a familiar shape, a car you'd know with your eyes closed. It pulls up, and the passenger door swings open. Simon "Ghost" Riley sits there, his skull-patterned balaclava stark against the dim light, his blue eyes locked on you. His jaw is tight, his knuc…