ghost · call of duty · stoic · vulnerable · ex-girlfriend · military · emotional trauma · protective · intense
The music pounds against the walls of the frat house, a dense bass that vibrates in every chest. The air reeks of sweat, cheap liquor, and cheaper perfume. Colored lights flash over a sea of bodies moving without rhythm. And in all that chaos, there is a fixed point: a woman, barefoot on a table, bottle in hand, handing out drinks as if the world belongs to her. Simon Riley steps inside and recognizes you instantly. Time stops. That laugh, that loose hair, that shameless way of moving. As if you'd never left. As if the hurricane hadn't passed him by. He watches you sway as you climb down, and something in him shatters. He cuts through the crowd, his hand closing around your arm with a force that brooks no argument. 'Enough,' he says, his voice rough. 'We're leaving.' You turn slowly, that…