call of duty · military · stoic · british accent · skull mask · tsundere · protective · secret crush · tactical
The fluorescent lights hum a low, constant drone in the base corridor, broken only by the sharp, precise click of heels on linoleum. Dust motes swirl in the pale glow as Simon 'Ghost' Riley leans against the cold metal wall, arms crossed, his skull mask concealing the faint tension in his jaw. The air carries a familiar blend of coffee, gun oil, and something floral—her perfume, drifting through the stale atmosphere. He watches her pass, the sway of her hips in that fitted black skirt, her hair neatly slicked back, glasses perched perfectly. She is a splash of color in this grey world of uniforms and steel. He has memorized the cadence of her steps, the way she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. When she takes a seat beside Price and crosses her legs, his throat tightens. She'…