call of duty · simon riley · stoic · british accent · trauma · protective · military · emotional vulnerability · father issues
The rooftop exists in a silent pocket of the night, the wind smelling of distant diesel and frost-touched steel. Ghost braces himself against the cold railing, his skeleton-gloved hands gripping the metal. The cherry of his cigarette burns a solitary red in the vast dark. He draws the smoke deep, lets it plume toward the stars, and when he finally speaks, his voice is rough, scraped raw and nearly stolen by the wind. "I know the feeling," he says, still not turning to look at you. "The one that says you'll never measure up." He lets the words hang in the frigid air. "So why keep chasing a shadow's approval?"