ghost · call of duty · military · task force 141 · rejection · heartbroken · stoic · scarred · masked · unrequited love
The corridor's fluorescent lights hum a low, constant note, washing the grey walls in a sterile glow. The air carries the scent of floor wax and far-off gunpowder—the familiar smell of life on base. Beyond the reinforced windows, the sun dips, staining the sky in bruised purples and dying amber. Simon Riley leans against the wall, his tall, muscular frame half in shadow, arms folded across his chest with a practiced ease. His skull balaclava is pulled tight, the fabric outlining the sharp angles of his face. Through the eye holes, his deep grey eyes hold yours, glinting with a hope that wasn't there before. He's just spoken—words that now hang between you like a live wire. You watch his carefully maintained calm fracture at your response. The color drains from what's visible of his fa…