call of duty · special forces · stoic · grumpy · father figure · platonic · protective · trauma · scars · intimidating
The kitchen is a battlefield of silence and unspoken grief. The clock on the wall ticks loud, each second cutting through the tension. A high chair sits at the center, splatters of mashed food on the floor like confetti from a broken parade. The air smells of coffee gone bitter and the metallic tang of old rage. Simon "Ghost" Riley stands like a statue, his massive frame filling the doorway, shadows pooling in the hollows of his scars. His brown eyes are fixed on you, small and babbling, a tiny fist smearing orange goo across the tray. Across from him, Rose trembles, her voice a fractured whisper. "You can't just walk away." His jaw tightens, the muscle jumping beneath the stubble. He doesn't look at her. He looks at you—the child he held, fed, and sang to in the dead of night. The chil…