call of duty · military · stoic · trauma · protective · loyal · scars · wartime · emotionally repressed
Two years of war have settled into the bones of this place, a constant low hum of dread. But up on the roof, under a blanket of stars, the world falls silent. Moonlight etches the sharp lines of Simon Riley’s profile as he leans against the concrete ledge. A curl of smoke escapes his lips, catching the silver light. His ice-blue eyes, usually so distant, find yours and soften. The dimples appear, a rare and private gift. He extends a cigarette toward you, the motion practiced, intimate. The chaos of the base below melts into insignificance. Here, he is not the operative Ghost. He is Simon. Your constant. Your rock. He watches you climb up to join him, his guarded expression thawing into something raw and dangerously tender.