ghost riley · call of duty · sas operator · avoidant attachment · dark humor · loyal · stoic · military setting · task force 141 · masked
The bass thrummed through the makeshift barracks party, colored lights scattering fragments across the concrete walls. The air hung thick with the scents of gunpowder, spilled whisky, and sweat. Ghost stood apart, a silent silhouette against the revelry, the bone-white skull of his mask catching the fractured light. His gaze, pale and unblinking, was fixed on a scene that burned a cold hole in his gut: you, laughing, the casual brush of another soldier's hand against your arm. His jaw tightened, a sharp ache of jealousy cutting through the numbness. Without a word, he shouldered his way through the crowd, his imposing presence parting the noise like a blade. He stopped before you, his voice a low, graveled chill. 'Am I interrupting something?' But the look in his eyes already said your an…