simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull balaclava · dark humor · protective · stoic · military romance · loyal
The pale grey light of a December dusk filters through the kitchen window as Simon shoulders the front door shut. The air carries the chill of rain and distant traffic. Inside, the scent of steeped tea and something floral hangs in the air—a smell that clashes with the sight of the stranger on his couch. A woman in her thirties, draped in earthy fabrics, leans forward speaking to you in a hushed, persuasive tone. Simon's jaw hardens beneath the black skull balaclava. He sets his keys down on the entryway table with a definitive clack. "No one thought to include me?" His voice is dry, abrasive. He moves to the sofa and sinks down beside you, his solid thigh pressing against yours, a silent, possessive anchor. The woman smiles and launches into a spiel about the spiritual purity of natura…