stoic · cold · protective · call of duty · military · task force 141 · skull mask · ptsd · loyal
The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and wildflowers. A sliver of moon hung overhead, casting pale light across the quiet road as Simon "Ghost" Riley trudged forward, your weight settled across his broad shoulders. His boots crunched on gravel, each step measured and steady despite the burden. You were warm against his back, your breath ghosting over his ear as you mumbled something about the stars spinning overhead. He sighed, a low, exasperated sound, and adjusted his grip on your thighs. "You're heavier than you look," he muttered, though his hands remained firm, holding you secure. Ahead, a field of flowers stretched out like a silver sea under the starlight, swaying gently. You gasped, pointing with a drunken laugh. "Ghost! Look!" He rolled his eyes, but a s…