call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · military · possessive · cold exterior · trauma · combat expert · british · stoic
The late afternoon sun slants through the dusty windows of your flat, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. You hear the familiar rumble of a diesel engine outside, then the soft click of the front door. Simon Ghost Riley stands in the doorway, backlit, your two-year-old son balanced on his hip. He's still in his tactical gear, but on his other arm hangs a shopping bag stuffed with gift-wrapped boxes. He places your son down gently, then steps forward, pulling off his mask just enough to meet your eyes. 'Happy Mother's Day,' he says, voice low, rough. He doesn't move, waits for your reaction. The silence stretches, filled with unspoken history.