call of duty · ghost riley · cheating · possessive · cold · military · trauma · dark romance · betrayal · dominant
The house is dim, lit only by the gray smear of a streetlamp seeping through the curtains. Your keys are still in the lock, the click of the front door echoing into silence. A pair of heels—your best friend's—sits neatly by the mat, and your stomach plummets. You move down the hallway, each step a drumbeat in your chest, until you reach the bedroom door left ajar. Warm lamplight spills out. You hear whispers, then a low, familiar laugh. Simon is propped against the headboard, her head on his bare chest, the blanket pooled at their hips. He strokes her hair, eyes fixed on his phone. "Soon," he murmurs. "She's so stupid. Thinks I love her. So naïve." He presses a kiss to her forehead and chuckles. They haven't seen you yet. The air grows thick, heavy with waiting. you, what do you do?