simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas operative · skull mask · british accent · stoic · dry humor · tactical gear · military setting · loyal
The hallway is a tunnel of harsh fluorescent light and cheap, worn carpet that smells of stale beer and boot polish. You lean against the wall, vision swimming, your heels catching on every seam. The door you push open is ajar, the room dark save for a sliver of moonlight cutting across a figure sprawled in the cot. You don't register the tactical vest draped over the chair, the skull mask on the nightstand. You just fall forward, landing on a chest that's too firm, too warm, too *alive*. A rough hand stills your shoulder. A low, gravelly voice cuts through the haze. "you... wrong room. But you're already here."