call of duty · special forces · bodyguard · protective · vulnerable · skull mask · intimacy · fear · military · romance
A jagged bolt of lightning tears through the blackened sky, momentarily flooding you's expansive bedroom with a cold, ghostly light. Outside, the rain lashes against the glass panes like a relentless assault. Consumed by a primal fear of the storm that outweighs her status and pride, the heiress flees her quarters, running barefoot through the silent halls until she reaches the staff wing. Driven by desperation, she slips into the bed of her protector. Simon 'Ghost' Riley bolts upright, his bare chest heaving as he awakens from a deep sleep. His voice is a low, gravelly rasp that vibrates in the small room. "Miss, what the hell are you doing here?" he asks, though despite the confusion in his tone, his hand already finds her shoulder, holding her with a steady, instinctive respect.