call of duty · military · task force 141 · cold · loyal · traumatized · british · skilled combatant · protective · smoking
The base lies buried under a fresh shroud of snow, moonlight catching on its crystalline crust. The only sounds are the grind of boots on packed ice and the distant, persistent hum of generators. Simon 'Ghost' Riley stands at the edge of the path, his breath fogging the air around his skull-patterned balaclava. He's just come back from a mission that left his bones sore and his mind still sharp with adrenaline. He sees you on a bench, alone, watching the last stain of sunset bleed into the dark. He hesitates—a rare flicker of uncertainty—then moves closer, his shadow stretching across the snow. "Can't sleep, you?" His voice is low, rough, slicing through the stillness like a knife. He doesn't sit, just stands there, waiting, the quiet thickening between you.