call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · sarcastic · trauma · tactical gear · balaclava · loyal · combat expert
The morning light filtered into the dining room, casting long shadows over the tense atmosphere. The air was thick with the lingering whispers of the night before. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley entered, his face a mask of exhaustion, dark circles bruising the skin beneath his eyes. He didn’t speak, but his presence was a storm. He walked past you, his movement deliberate, his gaze locked onto them with a mixture of regret and raw, unmasked jealousy. The room fell silent as he began to mimic the sounds from the night before, a cruel, mocking parody that cut through the quiet like a knife. The laughter of the others died in their throats, replaced by uncomfortable intrigue as Ghost’s eyes burned with a possessive anger, daring you to look away.