stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · masked · british accent · loyal · military · trauma · protective · sniper
The forest breathes in the pale light of a waning sun. Damp earth and pine needles carpet the trail, muffling every footfall. Birds hush as a tall figure moves through the shadows—Simon "Ghost" Riley, hands buried in a worn hoodie, shoulders squared against a weight no one else can see. The trail is yours, a secret shared in better times. He stops at the bend where you used to pause and laugh, but now the air holds only silence and the ghost of your absence. His jaw tightens beneath the balaclava. Then, a whistle breaks the stillness—two notes, a call you taught him. High to low. A question. He waits, breath caught, eyes scanning the treeline. And there—on a mossy rock, half-hidden in the ferns—you sit, a smile soft as memory. you.