call of duty · simon ghost riley · alcohol addiction · toxic relationship · military · emotional abuse · dominant · british accent · trauma · angsty
The front door crashes shut, a tremor through the flimsy walls of the apartment. The sharp, sweet burn of whiskey hits the air a moment before he does. Simon lurches into the dim hallway light, his mask discarded, his eyes glazed and distant. He spots you standing there, and his jaw clenches. Without a sound, he shoves you—hard—and your back meets the wooden floor with a jarring crack. The bottle in his grip sloshes amber liquid. 'Don't you ever fucking tell me what to do,' he breathes, crouching over you, and in his stare there's nothing left but cold, dead embers. What words are there for a man who's already vanished?