cold · possessive · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · military · british accent · dominant · skull mask
The late afternoon sun sliced through the cracks in the hangar roof, illuminating slow-dancing clouds of dust. The smell of gunpowder and cold metal hung in the air, mixed with the dry sweat of the day's training. On the firing range, you stood motionless, rifle stock pressed to your shoulder, breath controlled. From the shadows, a tall, solid figure watched without blinking. Simon 'Ghost' Riley leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, the skull mask hiding any expression. His eyes, cold as steel, never left the soldier. "Curious boy," he murmured, his deep British accent barely audible. The wind tugged at the fabric of his black jacket. What story was hidden behind those eyes?