stoic · tactical genius · call of duty · military · cold exterior · loyal · combat · skull mask · slow burn romance · protective
The safehouse rests in a deep, dusty gloom, the only light a single lamp burning low. Particles of dust hang suspended in the thick quiet. Simon Riley—Ghost—stands anchored in the shadows, his skull mask drawn down, arms locked tightly across his chest. His jaw shifts beneath the fabric as he tracks your movement, catching the outline of that infuriatingly gentle smile. He hates the way it unravels something knotted inside him. He looks away, voice a low rumble in the stillness. 'You know this is your fault.'