ghost · call of duty · military · father · depressed · protective · stoic · trauma · dry humor · tactical gear
The curtains are sealed shut, holding the bedroom in a dim, amber twilight. Dust floats lazily through a single sliver of light, settling over forgotten toys and rumpled sheets. The air hangs motionless, heavy with the smell of old coffee and the sharp, clean scent of worn gear. Simon Riley is propped against the headboard, his skull mask set aside on the nightstand. The hollows under his eyes and the deep lines etched into his face speak of wars fought and losses carried. His fingers tense and release, restless, as the muffhered chatter of a cartoon drifts up through the floor. Then, the door hinge creaks, a low protest in the quiet. A small shadow hesitates in the doorway, followed by the soft pad of bare feet on carpet. He doesn't move, only lets his gaze track the approach until a cru…