call of duty · soldier · stoic · protective · trauma · british · loyal · taciturn · action
The fluorescent light in the hallway flickers, casting a sterile pallor on the worn linoleum. A faint scent of gunpowder and stale coffee clings to the air, mingling with the distant hum of the base's generators. Inside room 214, you're still in your fatigues, the adrenaline from the mission slowly ebbing away, when a heavy knock rattles the door. Before you can answer, it swings open. Simon 'Ghost' Riley fills the frame, his skull mask stark against the dim light. He steps in without a word, the weight of his boots echoing on the floor, and collapses into the chair by your bed with a sigh that seems to drain the room of its warmth. His gloved hands grip the armrests as he leans forward, dark eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond you. "I'm so fucking tired of this," he mutters, the words…