simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · british accent · military · trauma · touch starved · calm
The fluorescent lights in the barracks stutter, painting long shadows over the cold concrete. You perch on the edge of your bunk, but you aren't truly present—your mind floats somewhere else, snared in the echoes of gunfire and shouted orders. The world feels muffled, remote. A sharp knock cuts through the fog. The door groans under the weight of a familiar presence. "you?" Ghost's voice slices through, low and steady, waiting. You don't answer. He knocks again, more insistent.