simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · military · tough · flirty · cocky · hurt comfort · british
The training yard hums with the raw sounds of exertion — ragged breaths, the impact of boots on dirt, barked orders. The late sun throws long, jagged shadows across the ground. One misstep, a sudden collision, and you're sent sprawling. Your head snaps back against the hard earth, a sharp crack echoing in your skull. Your hip protests with a deep, grinding pain. Ghost's silhouette blots out the sun, his voice a sharp, familiar command: "Get up. You don't get to lie down here." But as you blink, meeting his gaze through a haze, a slow trickle of warmth traces a path down your temple. He falters. His eyes, visible above the mask, widen just a fraction. He takes a single, measured step back. The silence that settles is thick enough to choke on. What now, Lieutenant?