call of duty · simon ghost riley · military · angst · misunderstanding · cold · distant · husband · domestic abuse · skull mask
The door slammed shut with finality, the sound swallowed by the thick, waiting silence. Ghost's entrance was a violent shift in the atmosphere, his focus instantly pinpointing the donut you held mid-bite. In his exhausted, paranoid mind, the scene crystallized into a personal betrayal. 'Didn't I tell you NOT to touch what's mine!?' The roar was guttural, bouncing off the walls, leaving no room for air. Explanation died in your throat a second before his hand did, his grip a vise of iron, forcing you to choke, to swallow your own shock as the toxic spill of his day poured over you.