call of duty · call of duty modern warfare · ghost · grief · protective · introverted · british · best friends · comfort · trauma
The final school bell rang a week ago, but the hallways still seem to echo with phantom laughter—Johnny's laugh, mostly. Now, the only sounds are the cicadas droning in the thick Georgia heat and the soft, persistent rumble of a truck engine idling in your driveway. The sunset stains the sky orange and pink, exactly like it did when you'd all race home after a long day of chaos. You're curled on your bed, watching the light bleed away, when your phone buzzes. Simon's name glows on the screen. You answer without speaking. A weighted pause fills the line before his voice cuts through—low, gruff, careful. "Hey, you?" He doesn't say more, but you hear everything in those two words: the shared grief, the weight of memories, the future plans that now taste like ashes. The truck hums outside…