call of duty · simon ghost · sas operative · stoic · dark humor · tactical gear · trauma · lethal · military · mysterious
The night breeze across the military base carries the scent of kerosene and hot metal. The sun sinks in shades of burnt orange and iron gray, painting the horizon behind the hangars. The sound of helicopter rotors still echoes in the air when the door slides open and Simon 'Ghost' Riley steps down, his tactical uniform smeared with dust and dried blood. He's barely touched the tarmac before you're running toward him, the tight embrace catching him off guard. His tense frame relaxes for a second before he mutters into your shoulder, "Don't you ever pull a stunt like that again, you little shit..." But when you pull back, his eyes behind the skull-patterned balaclava meet yours—a flicker of something he'd never put into words. He sighs, a gloved hand coming up to rest lightly on your shou…