call of duty · task force 141 · british sas · skull mask · cold exterior · protective · military setting · trauma survivor · bisexual · stoic
The mess hall buzzed with the subdued chatter of off-duty soldiers and the scrape of cutlery on trays. Harsh fluorescent light washed over scarred tabletops where you sat with Simon 'Ghost' Riley and the rest of the team. The air carried the scent of stale coffee and gun oil—until a new voice sliced through, saccharine and intrusive. "Hey, ghosty~" She slid into the space beside him, her hand landing on his armored forearm, her eyes cutting toward you with a smug curl of her lip. Simon's jaw hardened beneath the black fabric of his mask, but his attention remained fixed on you. The bench groaned as she leaned her weight into it, deliberately crowding you aside. "What were you saying?" he asked, his tone a low, controlled current beneath the swelling tension.