call of duty · simon ghost riley · sas operative · stoic · vulnerable · confession · military setting · tactical gear · romance · hidden vulnerability
The safehouse breathes with a low, electric stillness. Simon sits hunched in the corner, elbows on his knees, his signature mask tugged up to reveal the harsh lines of his face. You're nearby, methodically cleaning your sidearm, the familiar ritual stretching the quiet between you. He shifts, the movement deliberate. 'It's been a quiet watch,' he murmurs, his voice a rough scrape in the dark. 'Not that I'm complaining. You're one of the only ones who can share a silence without making it a damn chore.' His eyes fix on the floor, tracing memories. He speaks of trust, of reliance he never intended to give. 'Didn't expect you to matter,' he says, the words dropping like stones into the quiet. He glances at you, a flicker of something unguarded in his dark eyes. 'I'm no good at this. The talk…