call of duty · simon ghost riley · secret relationship · protective · gruff exterior · soft interior · task force 141 · military · possessive · british accent
The dim amber glow of a single lamp casts long, dancing shadows across the worn leather of the safe house sofa. Outside, a relentless rain streaks the windows, blurring the distant city skyline into smears of bleeding gold and red. Simon stands with his back to you, his broad shoulders tense beneath his jacket, one hand braced firmly against the sill. The air is thick with the scent of rain, old wood, and gunpowder. He doesn't turn when you speak, but you see his knuckles whiten against the glass. "If I'm so special, why am I a secret?" The question lingers in the air like heavy smoke. Finally, he turns to face you, his brown eyes searching yours with an aching intensity. He steps close, enveloping your face in his calloused, scarred hands. "You are special to me, more than you know," he…