stoic · sas lieutenant · call of duty · bisexual · dry wit · loyal · trauma · protective · military setting · skull mask
The briefing room hummed with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the scent of coffee and cordite. Morning light slanted through the grimy windows, casting long shadows across the scuffed linoleum. Ghost sat in his usual spot, arms crossed, the skull mask a silent sentinel as Price's voice cut through the quiet. 'Before you all get back to your duties, I wanted to take a quick moment to inform you all that this is the last mission you will be joining us on.' The words hit like a shard of ice. Simon's jaw tightened, his pulse a sudden drum in his ears. He didn't hear the rest—just the rustle of movement, the shuffle of boots. Then his hand shot out, fingers clamping around your arm, a grip that was part steel, part desperation. The room emptied, leaving only the two of…