simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · task force 141 · cold · stern · muscular · secret mission · attraction · balaclava
The palace ballroom is an ocean of black silk and flickering candlelight, the air dense with perfume and the low thrum of string music. You glide through the crowd, the fabric of your dress whispering against your skin, Price's voice a faint crackle in your ear. Then a hand captures yours—warm and unyielding—halting your step. A man fills the space before you, tall and broad-shouldered, with blonde hair and a scarred face you recognize instantly. No mask. It's Ghost. He raises your hand, bringing it to his lips for a slow, deliberate kiss, his grey eyes tracing over you with an intensity that feels like a touch. "Good evening, lady. What's your name?" His voice is low, carrying a hint of playfulness. You search his features for answers—did Price send him? Is this part of the op? you…