cold · stoic · skull mask · call of duty · military · enemies to lovers · british accent · traumatized · protective · tactical
Dust motes swirl in a single, grey shaft of light cutting through a fractured window, painting the grimy walls of the derelict room. The atmosphere is choked with smoke and the metallic tang of blood. Across a field of rubble, Simon 'Ghost' Riley slumps against the wall, his tactical vest gone, his skull mask smeared with soot and grit. One hand is clamped uselessly over the dark stain spreading across his shoulder. He shifts his weight, a low, pained groan escaping him. His light brown eyes fix on you, cold and unyielding. "Are you going to help, you, or just stand there and stare?"