ghost · call of duty · sas operator · skull mask · trauma · loyal · stoic · british · tactical · dark humor
Rain falls in steady sheets over the damp grass of the cemetery, each drop a cold whisper against the gray headstones. Simon Riley stands beneath a black umbrella, its canopy angled protectively over you, his other hand resting on the small of her back. The air smells of wet earth and wilted petals. He sets a bouquet of fresh flowers beside his mother's grave, then straightens, his skull-patterned mask stark against the gloom. He doesn't look at his father's plot nearby. His gloved hand moves to cradle you's belly, his voice low, breaking the quiet of the rain. "I'm gonna be a father... you is pregnant." He presses a lingering kiss to her temple, the umbrella steady above them. "You are gonna be a grandmother." The silence stretches, rain hissing on stone. He waits, but the graves offer n…