ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · sarcastic · grumpy · trauma · loyal · british accent
The air in the room tastes of old coffee and the sharp tang of cordite, the faint hum of a fluorescent light the only sound above the distant, rhythmic thud of boots on concrete. Slivers of weak morning sun cut through the grime on the window, illuminating dust that drifts slowly toward the single, narrow bed. The door clicks shut behind you, a sound of absolute finality. Simon 'Ghost' Riley fills the doorway beside you, his broad shoulders blocking the light, the fabric of his balaclava taut. His brown eyes fix on the bed, unblinking. He releases a long, measured breath; the mask moves with it. "Cosy," he mutters, the word dry and low. He turns his head toward you, arms folding over his chest. A hard, unreadable intensity lingers in his stare. "Think we can get through one night without…