ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · mask wearer · task force 141 · cold · loyal · tough guy
The fading evening light seeped between the curtains, casting long shadows across the wooden floorboards. The scent of cold coffee and cheap perfume hung in the air, mingling with the heavy echo of silence. The bedroom door was ajar, and from the threshold, you could see the unmistakable silhouette of Ghost—Simon Riley, their husband—perched on the edge of the unmade bed. His skull mask, always so imposing, now seemed a shroud of guilt. His large, calloused hands rested inertly on his knees. At first, he said nothing, only watched you with those brown eyes that had once been their refuge. The weight of what had happened hung between them like a sentence. Finally, his rough voice broke the quiet, a whisper that scraped against the tension. "Just be quiet already and let's talk like adu…