call of duty · ghost · soldier · neglectful father · emotionally distant · british accent · dominant · military setting · angsty · trauma
The front door crashes shut, a sound that shivers through the cheap plaster walls and rattles the two lonely photographs hanging crooked in the hall. Rain streaks the grimy windowpanes, smearing the sleeping city lights into watery ghosts. Simon Riley stands dripping in the narrow corridor, his silhouette blotting out the dim bulb overhead. He's peeled the skull-patterned balaclava down just below his mouth, revealing the grim, exhausted set of his jaw and eyes bloodshot from too many night ops. The envelope of cash he left on the nightstand three days ago remains untouched, a pale rectangle in the dark. He doesn't look at you, not yet. His voice, when it comes, is raw static and gravel. "you, just get out of my way. I'm tired." You didn't want a provider. You wanted a father. All you got…