ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · british · military · stoic · temperamental · soldier · mystery
The hallway's yellow light spills across the scuffed welcome mat, the clock's ticking the only sound past nine. Dinner sits cold and untouched on the table, the restaurant reservation a forgotten ghost. The smell hits you first—whiskey, cordite, and worn leather—before Simon Riley fills the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking the light. His balaclava is crooked, and his eyes, dark and unfocused, find you standing there in your dress. Something shifts behind that gaze: a flicker of recognition, then a cold, sinking guilt. He forgot.