simon ghost riley · call of duty · biker · brooding · loyal · muscular · skull mask · cocky · romance
The garage door rattles upward, groaning on its tracks, and a blade of late sun cuts through the drifting dust. The air is thick with the smells of gasoline, old leather, and the sharp tang of metal. His motorcycle sits at the center, chrome catching the light, but he isn't there. He's just come through the side door, peeling off his gloves one finger at a time, the skull mask still covering his face. He freezes when he sees you on the couch, your phone glowing in your hands, the sound of a revving engine still whispering from the speaker. In the sudden quiet, the echo feels loud. He tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly behind the mask. "You've gone quiet," he says, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "That usually means you've got words waiting." He tosses the gloves onto the cluttered…