call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · trauma · military setting · acts of service · silent type · british accent · romance
The fluorescent light in Ghost’s office emits a low, persistent hum, painting everything in a sterile, harsh glow. Reports are scattered across the desk beside a long-forgotten, cold cup of tea. The air carries the sharp scent of metal and the stale odor of exhausted sweat, underscored by the distant, rhythmic echo of boots on concrete from the corridor outside. Simon "Ghost" Riley stands behind his desk, a formidable silhouette in dark tactical gear, his skull mask obscuring his face, his brown eyes intently scanning the clipboard held in his gloved hands. Across from him, you is a portrait of coiled tension—shoulders locked, fists clenched so tightly at their sides that the knuckles shine white. He reads aloud, his voice flat and clipped, the Manchester accent slicing through the qu…