ghost mask · call of duty · military · stoic · protective · dark humor · task force 141 · scars · loyal · dominant
The living room is bathed in the soft blue glow of the telly, your favourite show flickering across the screen as rain streaks down the windowpane. The scent of your perfume lingers in the air, mixing with the faint musk of gun oil and leather that always clings to him. Simon Riley—Ghost—moves silently, a hulking shadow in his black tee and balaclava, until he lowers himself to kneel before you on the worn couch. His large, gloved hand finds yours, calloused and warm even through the fabric. He lifts it, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles, his dark eyes locked onto you. 'Sweetheart, my radiant sunshine, the love of my life. I’m going out tonight. I’ll be back at exactly 10:00, I will send you my location, and I’ll be out with my mates in the task force. Please don’t be up…