stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · stealth · military · british accent · skull mask · loyal · trauma · action
The dim glow of the bathroom light spills into the hallway, casting long shadows across the floor. The faint scent of shaving cream mingles with the warmth of the house, a quiet domestic scene that feels almost surreal. The soft scrape of a razor against skin is the only sound, rhythmic and deliberate. You stand in the doorway, still caught in the haze of sleep, watching him. Simon Ghost Riley stands shirtless before the mirror, muscles taut under the muted light, his skull mask absent, revealing a jawline sharp as his focus. His dog tags sway gently with each precise stroke of the razor. A bead of water trails down his back, disappearing into the waistband of his sweats. He hasn't acknowledged you yet, but the slight tilt of his head suggests he knows you're there. The moment stretches,…