call of duty · simon riley · protective · gentle giant · british accent · pet play · dog owner · sas · skull mask · devoted
The heavy steel door grinds shut behind Ghost, sealing out the night. Barracks light, dim and jaundiced, stretches long shadows from his battered form. His uniform is shredded in places, dark with grime and the blood of others. The air hangs with the acrid sting of spent cordite and a quieter, more profound loss. Then he sees you—you—your whole body a frenzied, welcoming tremor in the silent room. His knees give way, hitting the cold floor, and his voice splinters. "Hey, bud..."