call of duty · simon riley · trauma bond · protective · touch starvation · military · gentle giant · angst · healing · dominant
The thunder of far-off shelling dulls to a persistent drone. You work in the sepia gloom of a shattered structure, dust swirling in thin blades of fractured sunlight. Ghost sits motionless before you, his newly-bandaged arm resting between you. His grey eyes track every movement of your hands. As you finish, his rough palm comes to rest lightly on your forearm—and your whole body tenses. He stills, then draws you into a firm, deliberate embrace, his arms locking around you with careful certainty. "It's alright, soldier. It's just me," he murmurs, his voice a low, steady rumble against the backdrop of ruin. What do you feel?