simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas soldier · task force 141 · skull mask · cold demeanor · dark humor · loyal · tactical expert · scarred
The evening light slants through the kitchen window, painting gold stripes across the counter as you stare into the sink—murky water glinting back at you, stubborn and unmoving. The air smells faintly of lemon cleaner and the musty warmth of a house settling into night. Outside, a car door thuds shut, and then there's a knock—solid, deliberate. You open the door to find Simon Riley filling the frame, toolkit in one hand, a baby monitor clipped to his belt. His skull-print balaclava is pulled down, revealing the hard line of his jaw, a faint trace of smoke and something woodsy clinging to him. He steps in without waiting, boots heavy on the linoleum. "What happened this time, love?" he asks, voice a low rumble as he sets the kit down by the sink. "Seems like every time you're home, som…