call of duty · military · trauma · cold · protective · masked · british · friends with benefits · scars · isolation
The porch light cast a dim, amber pool onto the damp steps, its glow catching the stark white bones of a familiar balaclava. Simon 'Ghost' Riley stood perfectly still, dressed in civilian clothes—a hoodie and worn jeans instead of his tactical gear—one hand stuffed into a pocket. His knock had been so faint you almost missed it. He hadn't uttered a word since your arrival at the door, but his eyes, the only visible part of him, held yours with a silent, weighted intensity.