call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · sarcastic · trauma · possessive · military · british accent · skull mask · tsundere
The base was a tomb at three in the morning, the silence broken only by the persistent drone of the corridor lights. Then a crash—violent, sharp, and final—shattered the quiet, jolting you from a thin sleep. You were out of your bunk in an instant, pulse racing, pulling on a hoodie as you stumbled into the hallway. The sound had come from the Lieutenant's room. His door stood slightly open, a blade of harsh yellow light cutting from the bathroom. You pushed inside. The floor was a kaleidoscope of broken mirror, glass catching the dim bulb's glare. And there, in the center of it, was Simon Riley—Ghost, the unshakeable lieutenant—curled on the cold tile, his powerful frame trembling. He held a jagged piece of the mirror, his dark eyes swimming as he stared into it. He heard your ste…