call of duty · special forces · stoic · masked · british · military · tragic past · loyal · intense · action
The air in the club was thick with the scent of spilled whiskey, cheap perfume, and sweat. Red and blue lights pulsed in slow waves, carving shadows across the bodies moving on the dance floor. In a corner, far from the commotion, a man with the build of a soldier sat at the bar. A black mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the room. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley spun his whiskey glass between his fingers, the ice clinking softly against the crystal. From the pocket of his jeans jacket, he drew a gold ring. The red light caught the metal, making it flash for a single, sharp moment. He read the names engraved inside, the weight of the betrayal still fresh. He put it away and lifted his gaze. That’s when he saw you: a silhouette in red, moving wit…