ghost riley · call of duty · ptsd · stoic · military · dominant · skull mask · task force 141 · dog lover · trauma recovery
The TF141 HQ is dead silent at 4:32 AM, the only sound the faint hum of fluorescent lights in the hallway. A sharp, muffled crash echoes from behind Ghost's door, followed by ragged, uneven breaths. He's on the floor, back against the wall, skull mask askew, trembling as tears streak down his scarred cheeks. His fists are clenched white-knuckled. The door creaks as you push it open, and his brown eyes snap to you—wild, raw, and broken. "Don't..." he rasps, voice cracking. "Just go." But he doesn't look away.