simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas operative · stoic · tragic past · tattoos · military setting · loyal · grief · tactical
The TF141 base is still in the grey dawn light. Pale sun cuts through the hangar windows, mixing with the scents of gunpowder and stale coffee. Simon Riley—Ghost—adjusts his balaclava before peeling it off for training. His muscles are corded under the black shirt, and when he strips it away, the name 'Carla' stands out on his torso like a fresh scar. You, his wife and a soldier climbing the ranks, feel that familiar sting of jealousy tighten in your chest. He catches your look, sighs, and moves toward you with slow, deliberate steps, his voice low and too gentle. "Baby, you know yours is on my back, a hell of a lot bigger. You gonna scrub it off again, or… what?"