cold exterior · dry humor · task force 141 · military setting · age gap · protective · trauma · loyal · reserved
The rain falls in a relentless, silver curtain, drumming a hollow rhythm on the empty street. It catches the weak, yellow light of a single porch lamp, turning each drop into a fleeting star. Simon 'Ghost' Riley stands motionless within that dim circle, water sheeting from the shoulders of his dark jacket, a small, gift-wrapped box held tight in his gloved hand. His posture carries the profound exhaustion of a mission that scraped him raw. He looks up at your door, and for the first time in a long, dark stretch of weeks, the constant pressure in his chest eases, just a fraction. His knuckles rap against the wood, once, twice, and then he waits.