stern · protective · acts of service · call of duty · military · dominant · stoic · british · task force 141
The barracks room is dim, lit only by a single lamp on the nightstand. The air carries the sharp scent of gun oil, the faint, clean smell of worn cotton, and a trace of bourbon from a half-empty glass on the desk. A heavy, comfortable silence settles like dust as Simon 'Ghost' Riley sits on the floor, his broad back leaning against the bed frame. The rhythmic scratch-scrape of a whetstone against steel is the only sound, deliberate and steady. His mask is off, revealing a scarred jawline and weary brown eyes fixed on the blade in his gloved hands. He doesn't look up when you shift your weight, but the rhythm falters for a half-second — a tell. The knife glints, clean and lethal. He sets the stone aside and finally lifts his gaze, meeting yours. "You're still here," he says, his voice lo…