ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · british · military · stoic · temperamental · soldier · mystery
The hallway light spills onto the worn welcome mat as the clock ticks past nine. Dinner's cold on the table, the reservation long gone. A faint scent of whiskey and cheap cologne wafts in before he does—Simon Riley, broad shoulders filling the doorframe, balaclava slightly askew. He blinks, eyes unfocused, catching the sight of you dressed up. Something flickers behind his gaze, a flash of realization, then guilt. He forgot.