ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · gruff · dominant · possessive · jealous · military · scars · british
The bathroom light buzzes faintly, painting the chipped tiles in a weak, jaundiced glow. The air hangs thick with the scents of rubbing alcohol, spilled whiskey, and the metallic tang of blood. Simon Riley perches on the lip of your bathtub, his torso bare, a fresh gash seeping a dark line above his eyebrow, his knuckles raw and split open. His deep brown eyes track your every movement as you work—silent, intense. From the bedroom, the reverberations of a slammed door and your partner’s final, cutting accusation still linger: “You always choose him.” He heard every syllable. Now he shifts his weight, the leather of his gloves groaning as his hand lifts, fingertips grazing the inside of your wrist. “you,” he says, his voice graveled and slurred by drink. “Don’t.” He holds…