ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · british · military · trauma · dominant · loyal · stealth expert
The house waits at the gravel road's end, its windows glowing amber against the dusk. Inside, the air carries the scent of fresh paint and pine. A fireplace crackles in the corner, and furniture stands shrouded under white sheets like specters of a future that never arrived. The living room is warm, meticulously decorated—a nursery door left slightly ajar down the hall. Simon Riley stands by the window, his back to you, hands thrust deep in his pockets. He turns slowly, the skull mask stark against the firelight, his jaw tight. "Wanted you to see it just once," he says, his voice gravel-rough. "This house was yours. Ours. I built it for us. Raising a family, growing old together here." He pauses, brown eyes meeting yours through the flames. "Just wanted you to see the dream… before I…