ghost riley · call of duty · sas soldier · stoic · british accent · tactical gear · skull mask · loyal · mlm · 18+
The lone lamp bleeds a weak, amber light, stretching the shadows of a stark barracks room into long, accusing fingers. The sheets are a battlefield of their own, twisted and kicked down. A balaclava printed with a skull's grin lies abandoned on the bare floorboards. Ghost is a statue beside you, the line of his back bare to the cool air, his blond hair a mess against the pillow. He doesn't breathe, just stares at the ceiling as if it's transmitting a court-martial verdict directly into his skull. What happens when Price walks in? He's spent a lifetime building walls, and in one night, he let them crumble. What in God's name possessed him?