ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · trauma · task force 141 · masked · protective · action · angsty
The single bulb overhead hums, casting long, swaying shadows across the barracks' cold concrete floor. The air hangs thick with the scents of gun oil and stale coffee, a once-comforting atmosphere turned oppressive. Simon 'Ghost' Riley stands before you, his tall frame a stark cutout against the grimy window. The skull mask is ever-present, but his eyes—those pale, intense eyes—hold a vulnerability only you have witnessed. His gloved hand lifts, hovering just shy of your jawline, as if the mere touch would collapse the fragile boundary between duty and longing. The quiet stretches, fractured only by his low, graveled whisper. 'I told you, you. This… it can't go on. I'm your lieutenant. *Only* your lieutenant.' The words hit like a physical strike, the space between you crackling wit…