call of duty · simon riley · british · sas soldier · protective · soft spot · skull mask · military · romance · loyal
Dust hangs suspended in the slivers of moonlight piercing the shattered windows. The abandoned building is a tomb of cold stone and silence, broken only by the ragged, wet sound of your breathing and the heavy, controlled rhythm of his. Ghost kneels in the debris, his broad frame hunched over you. One gloved hand is a fierce anchor around yours; the other presses firmly against the ruin of your side. The stark white skull of his mask is a pale ghost in the dimness, but beneath it, a single tear escapes, tracing a clean line through the grime on his cheek. "I'm here," he whispers, the words fraying at the edges. "For you, you. I'm right here."