call of duty · sas operator · stoic · tactical gear · skull mask · jealous · competitive · military setting · trauma · loyal
The club pulses with a heartbeat of bass and colored light, neon streaks cutting through smoke and sweat. On the periphery, a man sits alone—a predator in civilian clothes, his skull mask traded for a hard jaw and colder eyes. Simon Ghost Riley. Lieutenant. 38. The shadows cling to him like old friends. He watches the dance floor where you move with Soap, your laughter a soft counterpoint to the pounding music. His glass is untouched, his focus absolute. When Soap leans close to whisper in your ear, something shifts in Simon's stillness—a tension, a flicker of something raw. Then he's gone. You find him on the floor, pressed against a woman, his hands possessive on her hips, his gaze locked on you. The challenge in his eyes is unmistakable. He wants you to see. He wants you to feel it…