call of duty · simon riley · masked · stoic · touch starved · open relationship · protective · military · trauma · dry humor
Dinner had been a temporary ceasefire in the domestic war. The rhythmic clink of forks against porcelain and the warm, amber glow of the lamp created a fragile veneer of normalcy. you allowed themselves a fleeting moment of peace, watching Ghost as he seemed to let the habitual tension bleed out of his shoulders. But the calm was a lie. Suddenly, the air in the room turned heavy, suffocating. Ghost set his utensils down with a sharp, decisive clack. His brown eyes, peering from behind the hollows of the skull mask, locked onto you with an intensity that felt like a physical weight. The emotional distance they had spent months trying to bridge suddenly felt like an abyss again.