ghost · call of duty · red string of fate · soulmates · protective · sarcastic · military setting · british · trauma · romantic
The briefing room hums under the sterile glow of fluorescent lights, the air stale with the scents of cold coffee and gun oil. Maps and mission dossiers are scattered across the table, but Lieutenant Simon Riley stands motionless, his full attention captured by his own gloved hand. A single, impossibly vibrant red thread coils snugly around his little finger—then stretches, taut and deliberate, across the empty space, its other end anchoring itself to you, the new face lingering in the doorway. His breath hitches, the sound muffled behind the skull-patterned fabric of his mask. His light brown eyes lock onto yours, wide with a shock he cannot hide. "The hell..?"