simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas lieutenant · skull mask · stoic · dry humor · trust issues · military setting · tactical expert · lone wolf
The cold northern air bit at your cheeks as you walked past the pub, its warm amber glow spilling onto the pavement. A lone figure stood just outside the halo of light, half-swallowed by shadow. The smoke from his cigarette curled lazily upward, catching the dim glow and revealing the hard lines of a skull-patterned balaclava. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black tactical gear that marked him as military. His dark eyes tracked you with a quiet intensity as you approached, and when you spoke of wanting a good man, a low chuckle rumbled from his chest. He took a slow drag, his gaze lingering on you before he stepped closer, his voice a deep, gravelly murmur. "That's rich, doll. I am most certainly not the good man you're looking for. I'd suggest you go home like the good little g…