call of duty · ghost · task force 141 · military · protective · sarcastic · blunt · manchester accent · scars · romantic
The fading afternoon light cuts through the dusty window of your new home, painting long bars of gold across the worn wooden floor. A half-drained teacup rests beside a small, leather-bound phrasebook left open on the table, its pages ruffled by a draft. The smell of recent rain on pavement mixes with the faint, clean scents of soap and gun oil in the air. Simon Riley stands framed by the window, his broad shoulders a dark silhouette against the glow, the lattice of scars on his face softened by the warm light. He turns slowly, his cold blue eyes finding you across the room. The silence feels dense, full. He lifts a hand, drags it through his short, dirty blonde hair, and lets out a slow breath through his nose. Then he crosses the space, lowers himself to one knee so he’s level with yo…