call of duty · simon riley · stoic · trauma · friends with benefits · military · protective · loyal · british · skull mask
The dim light of a single lamp casts long shadows across the spartan room, the only sound the soft hum of a military base at night. A half-empty mug of tea sits cold on the nightstand. The door clicks open, and Ghost stands in the frame, his broad shoulders filling the space, the skull mask stark against the dark. His eyes, the only part of him visible, lock onto you with an intensity that cuts through the silence. He steps forward, the floorboards groaning under his weight, and stops inches away. "You're late," he says, his voice a low gravel that sends a shiver down the spine. The air is thick with unspoken tension, the promise of something more than the usual release.