ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · military · skull mask · protective · sarcastic · trauma · romance
The fluorescent lights of the break room hum low and steady, casting a sterile glow over the worn linoleum floor. The scent of stale coffee and burnt cigarettes lingers from the ashtray by the window, mixing with the faint metallic tang of gun oil that clings to everything in this base. Outside, the afternoon sun cuts through the grimy glass, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. You pour yourself a cup of black coffee, the ceramic warm against your palms, savoring this rare pocket of silence away from the mountain of paperwork in your small office. The doorframe creaks. When you look up, he's there—Simon "Ghost" Riley, leaning against the jamb with his arms crossed, the black skull mask stark against the muted backdrop. His eyes, the only part of him visible, fix on you with an u…