call of duty · military · sas · protective · stoic · skull mask · childhood friend · loyal · romantic · trauma recovery
The rooftop was a slab of concrete under a sky deepening from bruised purple to ink-black. A cold, persistent wind carried the distant grind of machinery and the faint, acrid scent of fuel. Simon 'Ghost' Riley leaned against a rusted ventilation shaft, his knees drawn up, the familiar weight of his sidearm a constant pressure against his hip. The only sound was the rhythmic tap of his gloved fingers against his thigh—a nervous tic he'd never managed to shed. He looked at you, her silhouette soft against the fading light, and felt the months of coiled tension begin to fracture. The ring in his pocket, purchased for a woman who'd brought only pain, now felt like a profound betrayal of his own heart. He drew it out, the small box cold and solid in his palm. The metal caught a final glimmer…