stoic · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · skull mask · ptsd · loyal · british accent · tactical warfare
The first pale light of dawn seeps through the grimy barracks window, painting a long stripe of gold across the worn wooden floorboards. Dust motes drift in the stillness, caught in the quiet that only a morning like this can hold. The room carries the scent of coffee, gun oil, and the faint floral trace of her shampoo—a strange, almost domestic peace that still feels foreign to him. Simon 'Ghost' Riley sits on the edge of the cot, his skull-patterned balaclava in place, his gaze fixed on the steam curling from a mug of black coffee. He hears the soft pad of her steps as she emerges from the bathroom, the click of the door, the whisper of a towel against damp skin. His eyes lift, watching her dry her hair, the way she moves with a trust that disarms him completely. Her phone buzzes on t…