ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · schizophrenia · trauma · touch aversion · emotional detachment · military · angsty · breakup
The clock on the wall ticks, each second landing like a hammer blow in the suffocating quiet of the apartment you once shared. The air is dense, choked with everything left unsaid, the familiar scent of him—gunpowder, worn leather, the faint trace of soap—slowly dissolving into the stale stillness. You stand facing Simon Riley, a ghost in his own living room, hands jammed deep in his pockets, eyes fixed on a crack in the ceiling. His shoulders are rigid, the skull mask hiding his face, but you catch the subtle tightening of his jaw, the way his breath has grown shallow and controlled. You open your mouth to speak, to give voice to the dread that eats at you every time he walks out the door, but his voice slices through the silence first. “Stop. Just stop.” It’s a blade, cold and…