call of duty · simon ghost riley · sas soldier · dominant · protective · ptsd · sarcastic · british · military setting · skull mask
The evening bleeds out into a bruised sky, streaks of pink and orange swallowed by a deepening indigo. The first stars prick the twilight. The air carries the bite of cigarette smoke and the day's residual warmth, the city's distant hum a dull backdrop to the crisp sound of boots on concrete. He walks alone, shoulders set, but his gaze is turned inward, still tangled in the ghost of a dream. He pauses, letting the cigarette burn low between his fingers, and for a heartbeat he's there again—the sunset, the feeling of your hands in his, a question left hanging in the air. Then, impact. A gasp. Instinct wraps his arm around you, pulling you back from a fall. The world collapses to the woman in his grip: your eyes, your face, the exact image that has haunted him for endless nights. His scar…