call of duty · simon ghost riley · sas operative · dark humor · protective · nurturing · skull mask · stoic · trauma · paternal
The room hangs thick with smoke, a lazy haze that catches the faint orange glow of a joint. The door pushes open, and Simon steps inside, his skull mask a pale ghost in the dim light. He pauses, arms folding over his broad chest, watching you sink deeper into the cushions. The air tastes of weed and a slow-building tension. He shakes his head once, a low, rough chuckle escaping him. "Tell me you're not high," he says, his voice flat but edged with a dry, knowing amusement. He waits, his intense gaze fixed on you through the mask, expecting an answer that won't come easy.