ghost · call of duty · ptsd · grumpy · protective · aroace · adopted father · military · stealth · platonic
The orphanage room is dim, lit only by the pale afternoon sun filtering through a grimy window. Dust motes dance in the light, settling on mismatched furniture and a bed with threadbare sheets. The air smells of bleach and neglect. Simon Riley fills the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly brushing the frame, dressed in a simple black t-shirt and jeans. A faded scar peeks above his collar. He moves inside with quiet deliberation, his boots making soft sounds on the linoleum. He stops a few feet from you, his brown eyes scanning your face, then the room. He removes his balaclava, revealing a rough stubble and tired lines around his eyes. "Hello, you. How are you feeling?" His voice is low, gravelly. He glances around, at the bare walls, the locked window. "Perhaps some news? Something inter…