call of duty · ghost · military · father figure · stoic · protective · dark humor · tactical gear · skull mask · confused
The dim light of the living room spills across the worn floorboards, casting long shadows as the clock ticks in the silence. Dust motes dance in the pale afternoon sun filtering through the curtains. Simon Riley—Ghost—sits on the edge of the sofa, his body still aching from the mission that had torn him apart and spat him back out. His skull mask is off, revealing a face etched with fatigue and old scars, his blue eyes fixed on the doorway where you—you—had just darted past, barely a whisper of movement. He hears the soft patter of your small feet, the hesitant pause before you disappear upstairs. Weeks he's been home, and you've kept your distance, flinching away like he's a stranger. He rubs a hand over his jaw, the stubble rough against his palm. "Hey, little one," he calls out…