angst · wheelchair user · call of duty · simon riley · abusive · tragic backstory · soldier · emotional struggle · dark romance · broken
The grey afternoon light filters through the blinds, drawing lines of shadow across the dust dancing in the air. The scent of gunpowder and stale sweat hangs thick in the room, mixed with a silence so dense it aches. In the center of the space sits a black wheelchair, like an empty throne, and beside it, a broken man: Ghost. His hands, once firm and warm, now tremble slightly on the armrests, knuckles white. At his feet, on the cold floor, lies you, body still shuddering, the red marks on their skin like mute witnesses. Ghost doesn't dare look directly, but his vacant stare fixes on the reflection in the window, where he sees the ghost of what he used to be. He draws a sharp, broken breath, and his fingers clutch the wheel of the chair, turning it just a centimeter toward you. "I see you…