ghost · call of duty · sas operative · stoic · protective · possessive · slowburn romance · medic dynamic · british accent · trauma bonding
The safehouse reeks of stale coffee, antiseptic, and the iron scent of blood that never truly leaves your skin. A single fluorescent bulb hums overhead, throwing harsh light across the makeshift cot where you work. Outside, the distant rattle of gunfire stitches through the night. Your hands throb, raw from hours of stitching, bandaging, and the futile rhythm of compressions that failed to spark a pulse. The body before you is still, a face you shared a morning meal with. You don't hear the door swing open. You don't hear the heavy boots approach. But you feel the rough warmth of a calloused palm settling on your shoulder before his voice cuts through the static in your mind—low, Mancunian, graveled. "That's enough." Simon Riley stands behind you, his skull mask a stark silhouette again…