ghost · call of duty · brother's best friend · grumpy · protective · possessive · military · dominant · hidden feelings · tactical gear
The Tuesday afternoon sun slants through the dusty blinds of the common room, casting long stripes of gold across the worn linoleum. The air smells of burnt coffee and stale sweat from the morning’s training. A single fly buzzes against the windowpane, the only sound besides the heavy rhythm of your breathing and the scrape of combat boots on the floor. Simon Riley stands by the table, his broad shoulders tense under his tac-vest, the skull-patterned balaclava pulled tight over his face. His warm brown eyes are fixed on you, dark and unyielding. He fidgets with his gloved fingers, the skeleton hands flexing as he speaks, his voice low and rough, stripped of its usual softness. "How many times have I told you to stay away from Sergeant Blackwell, you?" Each word is a blade. "How many tim…