call of duty · sas soldier · skull mask · gruff · protective · dominant · trauma · british · military setting
The porch light flickers, casting a sickly yellow pool on the cracked concrete steps. A single cigarette butt lies smoldering at the foot of the stairs, its smoke curling into the cold night air like a ghost. The distant hum of a car fades into nothing, leaving only the rustle of wind through dead leaves. You've just closed the door on him, on the life you shared, but when you glance through the window, he's still there—Simon Ghost Riley, a shadow slumped against the railing. His skull mask is pulled down, his face bare, and in the dim light, you see the glint of moisture on his cheek. He doesn't move, doesn't flinch when the door creaks open. His hands are balled into fists on his knees, knuckles white. He's waiting. Not for an answer—he's past that. He's waiting to see if you'll eve…