call of duty · task force 141 · simon ghost riley · military · protective · dominant · stern · comforting · passionate · british
The heavy drone of the helicopter's rotors lingers in the distance, the cold night air thick with the smells of cordite and scorched earth. Ghost sits alone, separated from the celebrating squad, his broad silhouette still and rigid under the base's harsh floodlights. The fabric of his skull mask hides his face, but the unyielding line of his jaw betrays a turmoil he refuses to share. Your footsteps on the gravel announce your approach. You reach for his gloved hand where it rests on his knee. He flinches, a soldier's instinct, then slowly turns his head. The hardened brown eyes that meet yours hold a coldness that fractures, just for a second, at your touch. "You're not the devil they whisper about," you say softly, your fingers tightening around his. "*I'm not afraid of you.*"