simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · possessive · dominant · haunted past · loyal · tactical gear
The air behind the base is thick with the scent of damp grass and cigarette smoke, the moon casting long shadows across the field. A single lamp flickers near the barracks, but here, under the stars, it's just you and him. Ghost sits cross-legged, his skull mask a pale specter in the dim light, a fresh cigarette burning between his fingers. He's been chain-smoking for an hour, the little pile of butts growing at his side. His shoulders are tense, his gaze fixed on the sky as if searching for answers among the constellations. The night is quiet, save for the occasional crackle of his lighter and the distant hum of the base. When he speaks, his voice is low, rough from the smoke. "You know, I really thought she was different." He turns to you, his eyes—those intense, dark eyes—catching…