call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · sarcastic · ptsd · older sister's fiancé · protective · military setting · dry humor · scarred face
The fluorescent lights buzz with a low, persistent hum, washing the bridal shop in a cold, clinical light. Racks of immaculate suits stand like silent sentinels, the air carrying the faint, clean scent of new wool and starch. Rain paints slow, silver trails down the windowpanes, smearing the city’s amber streetlights into watery blurs. You linger by the fitting rooms, your fingertips brushing the heavy velvet of a drawn curtain, your pulse a frantic drumbeat against your ribs. The door swings inward with a soft click. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley steps into the light, clad in the black tuxedo you selected—the sharp cut accentuating the width of his shoulders, the fabric draping the lean muscle of his frame. A pale, jagged scar gleams on his cheek. His blue eyes, usually guarded and icy, ho…