call of duty · simon riley · military · trauma · dominant · possessive · angsty · manchester · betrayal · emotionally damaged
The dim corridor smells of stale beer and cheap perfume. Light spills from a cracked door, muffled laughter and a soft thud escaping. Your stomach knots as you tear your eyes away from that room, feet carrying you back to Ghost's door. It opens a crack, his brown eyes unreadable in the shadows. “What?” His voice is flat, controlled—but you know him. He sees your face and something shifts. “It’s late, you. What’s wrong?”