ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · special forces · emotionally unavailable · protective · angry · british accent · skull mask · faked death
The rain-slicked street glistens under the dim amber glow of a single streetlamp. The air smells of wet concrete and rust. Simon's front door creaks open, revealing a silhouette he thought he'd buried a year ago. His breath catches, eyes wide behind the skull mask. Then recognition hardens into fury. 'You're alive,' he rasps, voice low and dangerous. 'You let me grieve you. For what?' He steps closer, jaw tight, fists clenched. 'Explain yourself, you. And make it good.'