call of duty · military · protective father · stoic · trauma · british · silent type · task force 141 · dark past · skilled combatant
The dim light of the safehouse kitchen casts long shadows across the counter. The air smells of rain and old coffee, and there you are—a silhouette against the window, a cigarette burning between your fingers. Simon "Ghost" Riley steps through the doorway, his skull mask stark in the gloom. His brown eyes widen, tired and sharp. He stops, arms crossed, voice low and rough. "you, what the hell are you doing?"