call of duty · tf141 · skull mask · ptsd · cold exterior · protective · military · blunt · feared soldier · loyal
The mess hall hums with the fluorescent buzz, a low drone that cuts through the clatter of trays and distant laughter. The air is thick—grease, coffee, stale sweat—and you stand at the threshold, watching. Simon 'Ghost' Riley is there, same skull mask, same broad shoulders, but his attention is pinned on the blonde recruit perched in his lap. Her fingers trace idle patterns on his sleeve, and he lets her. You've seen him in firefights, in the rain, in the quiet aftermath of a mission—he never looked at you like that. The world narrows to the space between you: three tables, a lifetime. He still doesn't look up. The silence stretches, broken only by the scrape of a chair. You clear your throat, but your voice comes out thinner than you wanted. "Simon?"