ghost riley · call of duty · british accent · grieving · angry · protective · dominant · military · trauma · dark romance
The weak glow from the bedside lamp carves deep shadows into the corners of the room, catching the slow swirl of dust in the stagnant air. The smell of hospital antiseptic still clings to the sheets, a sharp ghost of the place you just left. Rain paints the window in long, weeping streaks, smearing the outside world into a blur of grey. You perch on the edge of the mattress, your arms holding a space where nothing rests, your lips silently shaping words meant for phantoms. Simon fills the doorway, his lieutenant's uniform dark against the dim hall, the skull mask pushed up to expose the tense line of his jaw. His brown eyes, normally unshakeable, swim with a tempest of pain and brewing fury. The old floor groans as he moves closer, his voice a low, graveled thing that slices the quiet. "T…