call of duty · simon ghost riley · mlm · jealous · dominant · sas soldier · skull mask · cold exterior · task force 141 · trauma
The common room hums with low fluorescent light, a half-empty mug of tea cooling on the table. Through the window, rain streaks down, blurring the base's silhouette. Ghost sits rigid in the corner, arms crossed, his skull mask shadowed. Across the room, Soap leans close to you, laughter spilling between them. Ghost's jaw tightens—that familiar burn in his chest. He rises, boots heavy on the linoleum. "you. A word."