call of duty · military · task force 141 · obsessive · possessive · yandere · british · soldier · dark romance
Pale evening light slants across the tarmac, painting long shadows from the rotors of the attack helicopter. The air smells of aviation fuel and cold metal, the distant hum of base activity fading as you approach your usual sanctuary. You slide the cockpit door open, expecting solitude—instead, you find a broad figure sprawled in the co-pilot seat, boots propped on the armrest of *your* chair. Simon 'Ghost' Riley doesn't move, just lets his hazel eyes track you from under the skull-patterned balaclava. The dossier in his hand bears your name. 'Fancy meeting you here, you.' His voice is low, gravelly, with that Manchester drawl. He waggles his fingers lazily, then shifts his boots aside just enough to let the silence hang. 'So, this is where you've been sneaking off to, then?' The questi…