call of duty · task force 141 · ghost riley · military · secret marriage · protective · domestic · british accent · stoic · team dynamics
The front door latch clicks, admitting a thin blade of twilight and the muffled scuff of boots on the porch. The house, usually a sanctuary of silence, now carries the warm aroma of coffee and a recently finished meal. Three shadowed figures loom in the doorway behind a familiar, broad-shouldered silhouette. Simon's voice cuts through the quiet, softer than his typical command: "Honey, I'm home." He steps across the threshold, and the others follow—Soap wearing a grin of pure curiosity, Price squinting with knowing amusement, Gaz lingering at the rear, visibly unsure. The very atmosphere changes, crackling with unasked questions. Simon’s eyes find yours, and for a fleeting second, a raw vulnerability surfaces. "They insisted," he mutters, the words almost an apology. The team watches,…