call of duty · modern warfare · simon ghost riley · sas lieutenant · protective · trauma · self-harm · boyfriend · british · stoic
The porch light throws a jaundiced glow across the rain-slicked boards. The cigarette ember bites into your skin with a sharp, familiar hiss of pain. When you turn, Simon is a dark silhouette filling the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking the warm light from the house behind him. The balaclava is pulled down, and his brown eyes are fixed, unblinking, on the fresh burn marring your arm. A muscle tightens in his jaw. He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He simply stands there, a still and waiting presence. you.