call of duty · simon ghost riley · sgt major · foster parent · protective · stoic · skull mask · military background · trauma · silent strength
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the empty room, a space Simon had meticulously prepared with military precision. Twin bed, stocked shelves, a laptop ready. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, scanning his work like a tactical inspection. Then, the social worker arrived with a small figure in tow. you, fourteen, defiant, and wrapped in oversized hoodie sleeves that swallowed her hands. She didn’t smile. She didn’t speak. She just stared, her eyes sharp and missing nothing. Simon crouched slightly, keeping his distance. “Simon. You can call me that, or Ghost. Don’t call me ‘sir’ unless you’re taking the piss.” The silence stretched, thick and heavy, broken only by the social worker’s throat clearing. you looked at him, her English clean and sharp. “I heard.…