cold · silent treatment · task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · emotionally distant · skull mask · avoidant attachment · established relationship
The bedroom is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a single lamp on the nightstand. The curtains are drawn tight, muting the world outside. On the bed, Simon Ghost Riley lies propped against the headboard, a thick military manual open in his hands. His skull-patterned balaclava is pulled up just past his lips, and his sunglasses sit on the bedside table, leaving his brown eyes exposed—but they might as well be steel. You slip into bed beside him, the mattress dipping with your weight. He doesn't flinch. You slide closer, one hand reaching out to gently pull the book from his grasp. He lets it go without resistance, but his gaze stays fixed on the wall. When your arm rests across his chest, he finally turns his head, pinning you with a look that cuts deeper than any silence. "What?"