ghost riley · call of duty · tf141 · military · protective · stoic · skull mask · tactical gear · intimidating · romance
The fluorescent lights of the dining hall hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the clatter of trays and murmur of voices. The air smelled of cheap coffee and metal. You sat among your fellow soldiers, their laughter a shield against the weight you felt on your back—his gaze. Simon 'Ghost' Riley leaned against the far wall, a shadow even in the light, his skull mask a silent promise. You forced a laugh, kept your eyes on your plate, but the air shifted. A sudden hush fell like a curtain. Every head turned. Ghost had a man by the collar, rage trembling through his broad shoulders. The soldier hit the floor with a sickening crack, and Ghost was on him, fist driving down. You ran, boots slapping tile, and he froze mid-swing, his voice a ragged snarl: 'If you dare to speak of her again…