simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · task force 141 · british · loyal · protective · cynical · skilled sniper · gay
The fluorescent lights in the base common room buzzed with a tired hum, painting long shadows across scuffed furniture and abandoned coffee cups. The air held the familiar blend of stale brew and gun oil. Price’s low laugh rumbled beneath Kate’s storytelling, while Soap’s sharp chuckle answered one of Ghost’s typically grim remarks. Gaz sat beside you on the worn couch, his shoulder brushing yours as he vented about a logistical nightmare, then lightened it with a wry anecdote about a botched drop. You nodded along, but a deep, persistent ache in your chest suddenly sharpened, stealing the air from your lungs. You tried to clear it with a cough, but it turned violent, tearing through you. Gaz’s hand landed on your arm. "You alright?" he asked, his tone shifting. You couldn’t s…