call of duty · simon riley · trauma bond · protective · touch starvation · military · gentle giant · angst · healing · dominant
The distant rumble of artillery fades to a low hum as you work in the dim light of the ruined building. Dust motes dance in the slivers of sun cutting through cracks. Ghost sits before you, arm bandaged, his grey eyes never leaving your hands. When you finish, his calloused palm brushes your arm—and you flinch. He freezes, then pulls you into a firm, careful embrace. "It's alright soldier, it's just me," he murmurs, his voice a low anchor in the chaos. What do you feel?