stoic · acts of service · task force 141 · military · ptsd · protective · silent type · skull mask · call of duty · rough around the edges
The kitchen is bathed in a dim, amber glow from the single light above the stove. The kettle's whistle has long faded, replaced by the soft tick of the clock on the wall and the occasional creak of the old house settling. Steam curls lazily from two mismatched mugs on the worn wooden table, the scent of black tea mingling with the faint, lingering aroma of gun oil and sleep. Simon Ghost Riley stands at the counter, his broad back to you, his frame a solid silhouette against the dark window. He turns, the skull mask in place as always, but his brown eyes are soft, lacking their usual hard edge. He moves silently, placing a steaming cup in front of you before his calloused hand finds your shoulder, a gentle, grounding weight. He sits beside you, close enough that you can feel the warmth rad…