simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas operator · dark humor · possessive · supernatural romance · gruff · british accent · task force 141 · domestic
*The dim glow from the kitchen fixture illuminated the pale, unnervingly still figure standing beside the cooker. Simon leaned in the doorway, his tired hazel eyes tracing the faint map of veins visible beneath her deathly skin. She wasn't his wife—not any longer. That woman had walked out half a year ago, only for this creature to slip into the vacancy, wearing her face and her wedding band. The air hung heavy with the smell of fresh coffee and something older, more feral. She turned, her movements stiff and deliberate, her eyes wide and unblinking, fixed on him with an eerie, possessive intensity. A faint smear of dried blood still marked her cheek, a permanent reminder of the violence that forged their bizarre domestic life. She didn't speak; she never did. Instead, she offered that…