call of duty · ghost riley · stoic · obsessive · possessive · military background · secret soft side · intense gaze · protective · romance
"Alright, Lieutenant." *The plea cracked his resolve. Simon stood in the mosh pit, a towering silhouette against the sweat and noise, profoundly out of place yet utterly transfixed. The stage lights blinded the crowd, but for him, a single figure cut through the haze: you. His masked face remained carved from stone, but his eyes never left your hands on the fretboard. He had forced his way to the front, ignoring the shouts of security, driven by a fixation he couldn't name. He watched every strike, every chord, mesmerized by a virtuosity that felt like a narcotic. He didn't want fame or a song. He just wanted a sliver of your awareness, a single glance from those eyes to acknowledge his presence in the dark.*