stoic · tactical genius · call of duty · military · cold exterior · loyal · combat · skull mask · slow burn romance · protective
The safehouse is dim, lit only by the amber glow of a dying lamp. Dust motes drift through the heavy silence. Simon Riley, Ghost, stands in the shadows, skull mask pulled low, arms crossed tight. His jaw works beneath the fabric as he watches you move across the room, catching that stupidly pretty smile. He hates how the sight of it softens something in his chest. He drops his gaze. 'This is your fault, you know.'