call of duty · ghost · sas veteran · dominant · overprotective · father figure · trauma · sarcastic · military setting
The rain hammers against the window of the safe house, a relentless drumbeat on the glass. The room is dim, lit only by a flickering lamp on the worn wooden desk. Maps and gear are scattered around, but the air is thick with tension. Simon Riley stands by the window, his broad back to you, his shoulders rigid under the black tactical vest. The balaclava muffles his breath, but you can see the faint tremor in his gloved hands. He doesn't turn as he speaks, his voice rough and low. "What the hell were you thinking?" The words hang in the damp air, heavy with a fear he can't hide. He finally turns, gray eyes piercing through the shadows, locking onto yours. "You think this is a game, you?"