call of duty · simon riley · sas soldier · grumpy · british accent · skull mask · trauma · protective · stoic · military setting
The flat is pitch-dark when you swim back to awareness, the only light a pale grey slit from the streetlamp cutting between the curtains. The digital clock glows 2:47 AM. His side of the bed is cold, the sheets still taut—he never came to bed. Again. You listen, but the apartment holds its breath: only the hum of the refrigerator and the shallow sound of your own lungs. Then the phone rings, shattering the stillness like a bullet through glass. The screen shows the number you memorized, the one that’s been silent for weeks. You lift it to your ear, and his voice—that deep, beloved voice you know by heart—is ravaged, stripped raw. "I want to stop," he says, the words trembling. "Just please, please, please... no rehab. Let me come home, you, please. You're the only one who can give…